


the time green lantern came to some self-revelations

by solus_piccolo



Category: Green Lantern (Comics)
Genre: ? - Freeform, Anal Fingering, Anal Sex, Bad Flirting, Bat Family, Batfamily Feels, Biting, Blood and Injury, Bottom Hal Jordan/Top Bruce Wayne, Bruce Wayne Is Worse At Feelings, Cute Ending, Denial of Feelings, Domestic Fluff, Epic Friendship, Eventual Romance, Eventual Sex, Eventual Smut, Family Bonding, Family Feels, Family Fluff, Fluff and Smut, Future Top Hal Jordan/Bottom Bruce Wayne, Getting Together, Hair-pulling, Hal Jordan Is Bad At Feelings, Hurt/Comfort, Idiots in Love, Injured Hal Jordan, Injury Recovery, M/M, Mind Games, Minor Injuries, Nicknames, Pet Names, Stupidity, Tags Are Hard, Tags May Change, fluff lots of cute stuff lmao, hal calls john mother, hal has various nicknames for damien
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2019-03-30
Updated: 2019-08-12
Packaged: 2019-12-26 15:41:24
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings, Graphic Depictions Of Violence
Chapters: 5
Words: 29,448
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/18285290
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/solus_piccolo/pseuds/solus_piccolo
Summary: in which spooky and flyboy are playing their usual game - screaming, fighting (sometimes coming to actual blows), and glaring - when someone actually does the world a favor and calls it what it well and truly is; sexual tension.ensue the existential crisis.





	1. the first revelation: zatanna (with the assist of diana)

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> the first of many revelations.
> 
> the "self" part of self-revelation comes only after the first revelation is put into his line of sight with no other place to look.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> this is my first multi-chapter fic, just letting you know. so if the scenes are choppy and the flow of chapters aren't seamless and things don't make sense that is probably why. also there is more info on why this is my first multi-chapter fic notes of the first chapter so bare that in mind. thank you! :)

Hal had never hated a person more than he hated Bruce Wayne. Sure, there had been that whole situation with that guy back in middle all through high school who used to pick on him but Hal didn't even remember his name now (yes, he did but he wouldn't even dare utter it in the deepest depths of his mind - he was simply that petty). Then then there was Sinestro (whose name he had to remember because the guy was a colossal pain in his ass still) and that whole mess with Parallax — but back to the _real_ villain of Hal's life, the bane of his existence. Bruce Wayne.

It didn't make sense that Hal detested Bruce so much and he didn't even really know why. Or, more accurately, he knew exactly why, but he felt guilty because he didn't know Bruce as a person (other then when they were Batman and Green Lantern - but that wasn't really Bruce, just like Green Lantern wasn't really Hal; those were just parts of them) and Bruce did so many self-sacrificing things for others and saved so many people that had to amount to something...right?

Wrong.

So, very, _very_ wrong.

Bruce was still the biggest asshole, douchnozzle, shitfuck of a person. Hal was astounded. Every time he thought Bruce could be redeemed in his mind the man went and fucked it to smithereens.

"Oh, for fuck's sake!" Hal shouted at Bruce. "Of course my opinion doesn't, nor does my vote count here. Like always. The three of you guys can shove your majority rules shit up your ass, for all the fucks I give — however, you're not going to prevent me from doing my job!"

Hal could see the restrained tension in Bruce's posture, and the clench of his jaw, from the very little of his face that was visible. After spending so long getting enraged at his lack of reaction Hal learned it wasn't a lacking of anything, it was just that everything was so restrained and so minuscule if you blinked or didn't strain to see you missed it.

" _The League_ _is_ your job," Bruce finally growled.

"No," Hal stated firmly. "I answer the call of this ring on my finger first, the Corps is a part of that first thing. The League is a _part_ of my job. I don't answer to you. I participate in the League to help things run more smoothly in my sector, and to save the people I can save and to help those I can help. And now this threat against my sector is alien, which is my _jurisdiction_ , and you're telling me to stand down?"

Bruce's lenses were up so Hal couldn't see his eyes but he could make out the intake of his breath and from the shifting in the chair that came from the other side of the table Clark had read something he didn't like in Bruce.

"You don't have a plan," Bruce said. He leveled  Hal with a look. "You never have a plan, Lantern. Your recklessness always gets you and everyone around you into serious danger, for us that danger sometimes means we don't come back from that. You plan to rush in there half-cocked because of some _fictitious_ idea that only you can protect this sector of the universe from alien threats."

Hal took in Bruce's words and then took them in again and then stewed in them for a moment. He clenched his fists just so he wouldn't choke Bruce.

"I never said I was the only one," Hal gritted through clenched teeth. He relaxed his fists and jaw painfully. "What I said, Spooky, if you were listening for once in your fucking life instead of just ignoring _everything everyone says_ and the way _they feel_ and doing things _your way_ — what I was trying to say was the Guardians gave me the job of protecting this sector from alien threats, that's my only job. That and answering when they call. Earth isn't mine, obviously, but it is mine to _protect_ , as I'm sure we all feel. If you'd have let me finish what I was going to propose before stepping in like you always fucking do you'd be thoroughly surprised to find out I have a plan."

Hal stared blankly at Bruce who stared blankly back at him.

"And one more thing, Spooky," Hal said. "Fuck you."

"I _totally_ called that," Barry grinned happily. "You owe me twenty bucks."

"Last time I bet on you ever trying to end a conversation civilly." Ollie muttered, handing over a twenty. 

"No, I'm not done," Hal continued.

"Of course you're not." Bruce said. Hal could hear the eye roll.

"No, what I mean is fuck you, for saying what you said. Not just what you said but also how you fucking said it. I may not be the sharpest tool in the shed but by no means am I dull." Hal told him. He could sense Bruce's look and aura of general disagreement. "I may be reckless, sure. But putting everyone around me in danger? Hell no. Myself, sure. You're a manipulative fuck, trying to guilt me into thinking about my previous reckless behavior hoping it'll somehow change so I'll do what you want. And you put emphasis on the word fictitious not the word only, which is odd. If I had said it, I would have done the opposite. It's as if you were trying to subconsciously poke my insecurities about the ring. Again, manipulative. Fuck."

Bruce stayed silent for so long Hal didn't think he was going to reply and then, "Hm," was all he grunted.

"Hal, you're acting weird," Ollie said. "Do you need, like, a doctor?" He asked.

"Yeah, you're being super scary," Barry said. "That was freaking scary. From Batman, I would expect that but from you it was literally like watching The Exorcist in real life. All like demonic, it was like Bats possessed you for a moment."

Hal turned a glare on both of them. They gulped and shut up in the face of his wrath. 

Diana, Dinah, and Zatanna had been moving their mouth but Hal had heard no words coming out so he assumed that was thanks to Zatanna. Diana cast him a cool glance when she found him quiet, rant seemingly over (well, not over actually, he had a lot more to go now that he was fired up but this seemed more interesting, she mouthed something at Zatanna who looked at Hal and grinned. She was clearly reciting some spell. Dinah was watching this all analytically, with on only the slightest of smirks on her face. 

"Sorry," she said. "If we distracted you and stole your thunder, but you seemed so into it, and we needed to talk strategy and we didn't want to disturb you."

Hal felt his cheeks pink at her words and he stammered through a reply before Diana cut him off.

"So, if you and Bruce are done flirting, we'd love to share the plan we've come up with," she said, to his absolute horror. Hal even tried, in his complete desperation to look at Bruce for some type of assistance, only to find Bruce locked on Diana with from what Hal could discern was a look of betrayal (Hal could totally tell), Bruce’s face shifted slightly and he glanced to Clark who looked like he was having an extremely hard time holding in laughter. His face was for the most part still open and nice to look at - maybe a little red, but his shoulders were sporadically moving up and down but no sound was coming out of his mouth. "Hal will not be alone but he will be at the forefront of the operation because of the rings capabilities, so this works out for the both of you."

Hal pinched the bridge of his nose and sighed. "Okay, this is—this is a great plan," he admitted. "Thank you."

"It also worked out even more for you guys because you got to release some of that sexual tension." Zatanna replied. The look on her face was simply devious. 

Barry and Oliver gave her equally horrified expressions, but for different reasons. They went as far as making disgusted noises. 

"Oh, that— _that was_ —that's so disgusting. I don't— _how can you even possibly_ —why'd you have to _say_ that?" Barry started and stopped, before he finally finished in a resigned tone.

Ollie just glared at Zatanna and said, "Saying dirty, inappropriate things that make Barry's brain melt and everyone around you uncomfortable is _my thing_." He pointed a finger a her. " _You_ don't get to _steal my thing_."

She held up her hands in a placating gesture. "Of course not," she slyly returned with a smirk. "I wouldn't want to steal anything of yours."

Barry seemed to have gathered enough of his faculties together to know when Oliver had been dissed to laugh. Dinah held out her palm and muttered, "Nice one." Oliver sent her a look of utter betrayal. The women high fived even in the face of his sour-pus.

Hal continued sitting there in complete numb shock. 

 _Sexual tension_ , she'd said. She thought he and Bruce had sexual tension? Sexual. Tension. He and Spooky? No way. She was out her damn mind. He took a breath to calm himself and glared them all down.

"Children, children, eyes here," he called. They all turned obediently. "Are we going to go over this plan in more detail or was that all of it?" He asked.

"Yes, Hal, we can go over it in further detail."

"Sweet."

He was just going to ignore it, it wasn't affecting him. This was a figment of her - their - imagination, because as he stated earlier - she was losing her mind. _Clearly_. 

 

* * *

 

After they went over the plan forwards and backwards, reverse style, and then again they finally ended the meeting and Hal was happy to get out of there. Clark and Spooky stayed back to have bro time or whatever they did, sit in long silences and stare at (through) walls together. Hal didn't really care. Barry and Ollie dragged him Barry's house to watch the basketball game.

Barry was stuffing wings into his mouth at the speed of light and Ollie was downing pints like he was getting paid for it.

"I can't believe she said that," Hal finally said. He had been silent the whole time, stewing over what had happened. Barry and Ollie looked at him. Barry with pieces of wing sticking out his mouth and Ollie with a wide grin.

"You're finally with us?" He asked.

Hal shrugged. "I mean why would she say that?" Hal continued looking at them. Ollie blinked at him and Barry swallowed the food he still had in his mouth. "It just doesn't make any sense. I hate Spooky, he's an egotistical shithead who thinks his opinion is worth more than anyone else's, he has the sense of humor of concrete and she said that we have.... sexual tension?"

Barry and Ollie exchanged a look.

Ollie took another swig of beer before saying, "Have you ever viewed you and Bruce from the outside?"

Hal just looked at him. "No, Ollie. I haven't. How the fuck would I do that?"

Ollie winced. "I meant, viewed the two of you from an outside _perspective_."

Hal thought about it. No, he hadn't. But that didn't make any sense either. All they did was fight and when they didn't they didn't speak to each other, they usually just glared, or got in each others faces, or they talked shit about each other. This made no sense.

"No, why would I do that?" He asked. Ollie sighed.

"Hal," Barry started. He looked uncomfortable but he still forged on. "You call him Spooky, you are constantly looking at him--"

"That's because he's constantly pissing me off!" Hal protested. "I wouldn't look at him at all if he didn't make me angry. I stare and imagine beating the hell out of him. Also, if I didn't look at him when he was speaking it would be, ‘Lantern, you have the concentration of a five year old. Actually, no I take that back. That is an insult to five year old's.'"

Ollie nodded in agreement and Barry made a disgruntled noise.

"That was an oddly good impression," Ollie told him. Hal rolled his eyes.

"You guys are constantly at each others throats for no reason," Barry continued. He held up a hand when Hal looked ready to jump in again. "You got in his face for eating the last sandwich the other day, which he brought with him because Alfred made them."

Hal's face felt hot with shame, he hadn't known that. Even if he had that doesn't change it. He still did it. He shouldn't have acted like that.

"You were all up on him," Ollie commented unhelpfully, eyes on the television.

"And there was that time he pushed and held you against the wall for being late to the League meeting, even though Ollie had just shown up two seconds before you did," Barry said.

Hal's brain was leaking out of his ears, he was sure of it. He couldn't process all, or really any of this new information, so he did what he did best - avoid.

"The prejudice," he gasped. Barry frowned at him. "I'm late a single time and get thrown against a wall and Ollie's late to every meeting and all he gets is ignored and maybe some glares or a snarky comment."

Barry looks exasperated. "Are you listening?" He asks. "There is a reason he treats you differently--"

Hal waved his hand. "Whatever it is, I don't have time for it. I don't care." It wasn't true, he did care but once he heard it out of someone else's mouth he'd be invested, as he was he could continue living in his dream world; convincing himself that his feelings weren't his feelings.

Barry thinned his lips and turned back to the game, Hal turned his head toward the television too but saw none of it. He was too busy thinking about what had almost been said, what had been implied _far_ too many times today for his liking, and why he had such a problem with anyone just coming out and saying it to him. Saying what was apparently clear to everyone but him. But... maybe it _was_ clear to him and that's why he didn't want to hear it, maybe a subconscious part of his brain had already admitted - whatever needed to be admitted and thought over - and that was the part of his brain that actually thought over things rationally because it knew Hal would freak the fuck out.

He wanted this all to go away. He wanted to forget that this had ever happened. That this had been brought to his attention, but even then when his thoughts drifted there it wasn't a safe place for him to be. When he started with that train of thought, the spiral led him down an even worse path of self-revelations. And like any normal person who lied to themselves about the hard shit, these self-revelations changed the way he viewed his current reaction to the predicament.

When he thought about it, really thought about... even when it hadn't been brought so _blatantly_ to his attention he had been aware of it. It had been on the edges of his mind, he had just been trying to ignore it. What he reflected on that got him fucked was _why_ he had ignored it so adamantly this whole time. Why didn't he let himself see it? Why hadn't he wanted to see it?

Self reflection was difficult. But, in this case it was necessary. So, he forced himself to persevere. It was always there, at the back of his mind. He didn't have to force himself necessarily not to see it, he just knew something _was_ there and didn't go looking; he simply ignored it. He always looked at _whatever_  it was at an angle and never head-on, he wouldn't face it and now... Now everything was jumbled and also more clear at the same time, but he was also more confused than he had ever been in his entire life.

Everyone had been trying to get him to see this thing that he apparently hadn't seen, but he had seen--or glimpsed it--and he chose to ignore it, he didn't want to admit it to himself, and now he was being forced to. It was no one else's fucking business, and now they're getting involved on their own? He was angry and embarrassed with the more self-reflections he stumbled upon.

Two loud cheers rang out, startling Hal back into the present. He looked around and spotted the score and quickly gauged what had happened. Ollie smacked his arm with a lazy grin and continued watching the television, watching the three-point shot in slow motion. Barry on the other hand was looking at Hal with a frown, he raised his eyebrows questioningly. Hal managed a small smile and tilted his head toward the screen. A crease formed between Barry's eyebrows, his eyes flitted between Hal and the screen before the television won the battle, thankfully. Hal was done with thinking for the night, and that was one thing the television was good for. Barry would want him to _talk_. All talking would cause him to come to more self-revelations, more thinking. He wanted to avoid that.

When the game finished he stood and yawned, it wasn't fake. He was honestly tired out with the amount of his brain he had had to use. Barry kept shooting unsubtle looks his way, and Ollie wasn't trying to be subtle about it.

Oliver was many things, subtle wasn't one of them. He also didn't try to be either, Hal respected that.

"You look like shit," Ollie said conversationally. There was a hint of cheer but it was underlined with concern and what almost seemed like understanding. Hal couldn't take that.

Barry punched him in the back of the shoulder. "That isn't helping," Barry whispered harshly. He looked like he was going to say more when Hal laughed. They both looked at him with surprise and confusion.

"Thank you, for your ever present candor, Ollie," Hal said, chuckling. That part was true, he loved Ollie's no bullshit when it came to certain things; the other part, not so much, he wasn't happy, or okay. And they clearly knew it, but he needed to get out quickly without some long talk or therapy session or a hug. "Of course I look like shit. I was off Earth for two weeks straight, only to come immediately back to a meeting and have Bats undermine my experience and authority again. I'm tired."

That was also completely true. He'd been tired since the moment he got back. He'd drunk about six coffees and then when that wasn't enough submitted to energy drinks to stay awake for the meeting and then for this. He agreed to this because he needed the distraction, he'd gotten a two hour nap at the Tower but that was nothing. He was bone tired.

Barry looked concerned and now Ollie did too which was never a good sign.

"Hal-" Barry started.

"You guys," Hal sighed. "I'm fine, okay? I'm sleep deprived. I need forty-eight hours of uninterrupted sleep and I'll be good as new. Okay?" His tone left no room for argument.

Ollie wasn't going to bullshit him, Barry would humor him though. Oliver's face clearly told Hal that he wasn't buying that this was just sleep deprivation. Hal had come back from missions much longer to alien invasions that lasted days. This was nothing.

Barry nodded. He looked worried, eyebrows pinched. "Okay," he agreed. "Come by here, or call or text when you wake up."

Ollie just stared at him and raised an eyebrow. "You heard him. When you've had your sleep we're going out." He put his hand on Hal's shoulder and walked him to the door.

"That's not what I meant!"

"I know," Ollie grinned. "You're no fun, I had to take liberties."

They walked him to the door together, bickering like children, purposely doing everything to humor him and ignore what Hal had been and wanted to continue to ignore for as long possible.

 

* * *

 

Hal slept for fifty-three hours before he woke up, he groaned and wiped his eyes and checked the time. It was 4:51 AM, he groaned a second time. It was only thirty nine minutes earlier than he usually had to get up but those thirty nine minutes meant everything. He could be blissfully, peacefully asleep. He realized that he got fifty-three hours of straight sleep and was still somehow tired, it wasn't the acute exhaustion he'd been used to but something more minor. He couldn't explain this sort of tired.

Instead of being asleep he was smacked in the face with everything he didn't want to face. Also there were his responsibilities now that he was back on Earth. Usually on his first day back he would see Carol and Tom, that hadn't happened yesterday. He texted Carol and Tom that he was home, at his apartment.

They replied saying they'd come by later. Hal rolled out of bed and into the bathroom. He was in there for a good hour. He took the world greatest piss, had a long shower, just standing there, under the steaming spray of water. Usually his showers were unreasonably quick, a habit from the military he hadn't broken. He found that the longer his showers were the longer he was able to have a blank mind. He shaved.

Then he sighed as he realized he had to check in with Ollie and Barry. 

 _H_ **_:_ Am alive. Just woke up. No need to send reinforcements to my apartment.**

 _B:_ **Oh, thank god! I was getting worried. You coming by later?**

 _H:_ **Can't, sorry. C & T are coming by.**

 _O:_ **party pooper. we was gonna party**

 _O:_ **we r still partyin without u**

 _B:_ **Can you use proper grammar?**

 _O:_ **yea, i choose not to**

H: **We can see that.**

 _B:_ **We are at the Tower, there's a meeting in twenty minutes.**

 _H:_ **Oh, I'll be there. I wasn't notified.**

 _O:_ **u was slep Zzz**

 _B:_ **Bats made that call I think... he knew you hadn't gotten really any sleep since you got back on-Earth and that you were doing everything you could to keep yourself awake for the meeting.**

Hal read the message, and then read it again. It wasn't a surprise. Bruce knew every time he left and came back. When he came back he sent a signal to the Tower, when he left he notified them. Bruce people watched and analyzed to a creepy degree, it didn't take a rocket scientist to deduce that Hal was lacking sleep when he was downing coffee after coffee like water.

 _H_ **_:_ I see.**

He left it at that and left his apartment via balcony. He flew to the Tower and got there three minutes late. His hair was disheveled, he had dark circles and under his suit he was in sweatpants and a hoodie.

He decided that if he was three minutes late he might as well make it five and headed to the break-room and grabbed a coffee, he dumped sugar by the spoonfuls, added minimal cream and then grabbed a plain bagel for later.

He headed into the meeting room to the sound of Clark's voice. He stopped whatever he had been saying the moment Hal stepped through the door, with his coffee and bagel. Clark smiled, "Hal, it's nice to see you."

"Yes," Bruce said. "It's nice of you to join us..." he pointedly looked at the clock. "Six minutes late."

Hal kept his face blank and his tone neutral, not to be overtly hostile but to keep himself in check. "I thought it was only going to be five," he replied. He sipped his coffee and took his seat. It was silent as they took in this exchange, Hal placed his bagel on the napkin he'd also snatched and put it on the table. He took pulls of his coffee and spun his bagel in circles. He looked up at Bruce only when the silence continued.

Bruce had the lenses up so Hal couldn't get a read. Hal stopped playing with his bagel and rested his elbow on the table, and then rested his head on his hand and sipped on his coffee again and he stared at Bruce and let his consideration and confusion play on his face.

"Spooky?" Hal finally broke the silence. He licked his lips. His eyebrows were pinched together, his hand still wrapped around his coffee he let a finger point at Bruce. He made it all seem unplanned, it was really, but the moment he'd step foot in the room he knew what he was going to do. His head was tilted slightly because of the positioning of his hand.

Bruce only grunted in response. Hal took note that, it was one of the only time he'd ever responded to that nickname alone, usually when he responded to it it had an insult that could have only been directed to him along with it.

"How the fuck can I be late to a meeting I wasn't notified about?" He asked. He let it play on his face, the raising of his eyebrows, the curve of his lips. He was enjoying this, Bruce trying to chew him out for being late... he'd enjoy this. His tone was different than all the other times they'd gone at each other, too. Usually it was all aggression and anger, rage, fury, the levels varied; this time it was barely posed as a question. His tone wasn't friendly but it wasn't unfriendly either. It was rhetorical, but also not, because that is how Bruce would do it. He'd leave it open ended but if you answered you'd be digging your grave even deeper, and if you were silent he won anyway.

Bruce just continued looking at him, those white lenses up, silent. His head tilted, just the smallest amount, like this was something he had not been expecting.

Hal sat back in his seat, feeling a little smug, okay a _lot_ smug. He looked at Clark. "What exactly is this meeting about?" He inquired. Clark blinked and stared at him for a moment before his dazzling smile from before was back but ramped up ten times. He seemed amused. Hal smiled back, because it was hard not to love Superman.

"We were going to go over the revised plan one more time. It's been revised because we got some more people to agree to help us. It changes things, but not much, the core of the mission is still the same. The goal is the same. The only thing that changes is dynamics, who we are partnered with." Clark explained.

"I see," Hal said.

Clark nodded. Then he gave Bruce the stage to explain who they got to agree. His two sons, Dick and Jason. Dick's girlfriend Kory and Jason's 'friend' Roy. It wasn't that much more help and it was uneven it Hal saw there this was going in terms of how they where going to be teamed.

"I have someone," Hal offered. He was staring at the ceiling. He thought it through again, they would be fighting aliens, on their turf, it would be a mostly aerial battle. Those who couldn't fly without aid would be at a disadvantage. That's how the teams would be paired. To make it more even they needed at least one more person who was proficient in aerial battle.

Analyzing the Batman all this time had him analyzing everyone and everything, he'd learned a few things.

"You have someone?" Bruce scoffed.

Hal again didn't let the remark get to him and glanced back and forth from Bruce to Clark.

"Yes, I believe that's what I said," he replied evenly. Clark tried to hide a smile and failed. "I have two actually. The teams are uneven in terms of aerial strength." He stated.

Clark seemed surprised.

"So, I have two people, you've met and worked with both. They are trustworthy. Considering where they are in the galaxy one, or if we are lucky, both might come to our aid," Hal told them. He eyed his bagel. Skipping breakfast hadn't been the smart choice and he was regretting it. His stomach was rumbling quietly and he knew Clark was hearing it so he decided to dig in before it got even louder. Clark's lips quirked, Hal took that as approval.

"Kyle and John?" Diana asked.

Hal nodded and sipped his coffee. He thought of the message he wanted to send and decided one something straight to the point, _'I need your help, it's important. There's a threat to Earth, they have yet to attack but their ship is hovering. We could use your help, but I understand if you are on mission. - H.J'_

"Okay, I sent the message. I'll know when they reply--"

 _'Lucky you, Jordan, I'm in between missions and close by. I'll be there in a few hours. Don't start an intergalactic war before I get there. - K.R'_ Hal choked a laugh down and then covered it with a cough, everyone was staring at him.

"I'll take it someone replied?" Diana questioned, ever inquisitive.

Hal nodded. "Yes, Kyle," Hal told them. "He said I got lucky, he's between missions and close by, he was probably going to pass close by Earth anyway."

_'I will be there shortly. Don't start a war before then - J.S'_

Hal threw up his hands and pouted. "What--?" he started aloud before he realized and then righted himself. "John is also coming."

_'Thank you, both. And you both said something alarmingly similar about me starting a war? As if I would. But, really... Is that why you're coming? Because you think I'm going to start a war? - H.J'_

_'Obviously. - K.R'_   He can hear the way Kyle would say it in his head, can almost see it, the shrug of shoulder and the roll of his eyes.

 _'Of course. - J.S'_   This would be said completely seriously.

"I'm going to kill them," Hal muttered as he bit into his bagel viciously.

_'Maybe we shouldn't come, John. I'm sensing the killer intent from this galaxy. - K.R'_

_'Perhaps, you are right. - J.S'_

"That's it." He pulled up the cursed image they only send around when they need to really get each other back and he send it through. The next message he got from Kyle is distinct horrified screaming, John was disgusted stammering. Hal grinned in satisfaction. The image is of Kilowog...it's truly horrifying.

"Lantern?" Bruce snapped. "Can you pay attention? This is important, and you have the attention span of a child." He tilts his head and taps his finger on the table before shaking his head. "I take that back, it's an insult to children."

Barry and Oliver started snickering as they remember Hal's impersonation and it's almost word for word what Bruce said. Bruce shot them a look and they stopped. 

"Sorry," Hal responded just to throw him off. "Having a psychic connection through the rings and being able to send messages to each other in real time is.... distracting to say the least. I can see how you could interpret this as odd. I'll try my hardest next time to focus on the conversation going on in my head and the one going on out here."

Again Bruce said nothing. But then, Bruce seemed to start playing his game. "That's all I ask," He said monotonously. Hal was shocked for a second before he grinned and had to stop himself from laughing.

The meeting continued but not much more needed to be said after that. Hal finished his bagel in record time and left as soon as the meeting ended without a second glance at anybody, not even Ollie or Bar, he was in need of another bagel and another coffee. He walked to the break-room at a swift pace and snatched a bagel and starting munching on it. He had just poured his coffee when Carol called. He unsuited for a moment, fished his phone from his pocket and re-suited.

"Carol?" He asked into the phone.

"Hal?" She asked. "Hi. How are you doing?"

Hal sighed and looked for a spoon, when it took too long he begot the spoon and began dumping sugar into his cup.

"Honestly?" He inquired.

"Always."

"Well, I feel like I got hit with a bus. Figuratively and literally, I'm still tired even when I got like fifty hours of sleep," he told her.

She hummed. "We're coming over tonight," she said.

"About that..."

"We are coming over tonight." She repeated, steel now in her tone.

"Okay, but John and Kyle are also supposed to be landing tonight... well Kyle is, I'm not sure about John," Hal told her. "It might be late. Super late that I get back. Or have to be super early and only for a little."

"That's fine."

"Okay," he said. He stirred his cream into his coffee. "Look, I gotta go. Text me which is better, I'll ask them what their eta is and go from there."

"Alright, be safe."

"Always."

He took several more bites of his bagel before taking a sip of his coffee. The sugar on the counter from him dumping it into his cup was looking appealing. He made a construct to collect it, and poured half of it into his cup and the rest into the trash.

"The amount of sugar you put into that is..." Hal spun around startled. Bruce was standing there watching him. Had been watching him the whole time, the creep. "I don't know whether to be awed or appalled." He finished.

"You're probably going to go with appalled," Hal replied, trying to figure out what was happening here. Why Bruce was standing here. "It's really fucking creepy that you do that," he added.

"You're most likely right," he admitted. Hal didn't know to which he was admitting to. 

Hal looked down at his coffee and then at Bruce and just stared. He figured that Ollie and Barry were going to follow him, they probably had started to until they had seen that Bruce had as well. Hal frowned as he thought about that. He took another sip of his coffee. It was quiet and Hal didn't care to fill it. He did want answers though.

He tilted his head. "What is this?" He questioned bluntly. He kept his face blank, but even then he realized he was at a disadvantage. Bruce had his lenses up, his cowl on. Added to the fact that he was the master of wordplay and keeping his reactions contained.

"What do you mean?" Bruce asked.

Hal raised his eyebrows, he wasn't playing that game. With everyone else sure, but not with the fucking Batman. "Really, Spooky? That's how-- _okay_ ," he said. "Why did you follow me here? To talk? To have a _tantalizing_ conversation? Because we've had _so many_ of those."

Bruce stayed silent for a minute, Hal watched him closely. From what he could see of his face, he saw that his lips had thinned. That meant either he was annoyed, he was trying to think of what to say, or he had already thought of what to say but he knew he needed to reword it and he was trying to figure out how to do that. Hal took it back, Bruce being in full suit wasn't a disadvantage, but he was always in full gear. Hal has learned to read him—although however little—while Bruce was wearing the full suit. So, only being able to see Bruce's mouth and incredibly sharp jawline gave Hal a lot of information.

"I followed you because..." and then the oddest thing happened. Bruce seemed to be having trouble with his words, like he didn't know what to say next, like he himself didn't know why he was there. "I...I wanted to tell you that you surprised me. With how observant you were."

Hal considered this. It was probably true, definitely true. He'd surprised everyone, mostly, he knew that. Then he considers Bruce's choice of words. Not "I wanted to say" but "I wanted to tell you" he hates himself for thinking that far into it, but damn it, he was already fucking there. He might as well finish it.

Bruce always chooses his words carefully, he knows words can be weapons, he knows his can be weaponized against him. Have been. So, the word _tell_ instead of _say_ has alarms ringing in Hal's brain for some reason even if it is such an inconsequential thing.

Bruce wanted to _tell_ him. Not he wanted to _say_ to him.

Fuck.

And his tone when he had said it. It was aiming for condescending, an underhanded compliment, that was what it was meant as. But the gesture in and of itself, and the word choice proved that wasn't what it was.

And his fucking tone.

It had barely perceptible traces of awe in it, Hal thinks it might be because he's _still_ able to surprise him.

Hal hated this.

"I surprised you?" Hal parroted. Bruce's barely there nod was his only reply. "And you're surprised that I'm still able to surprise you?" Hal asked, a smirk curling his lips.

Bruce opened his mouth then closed it.

Hal's smirk widened. He grabbed his coffee from the counter and took a sip as he turned back towards Bruce. Bruce was standing a few steps in front of the doorway, by all means blocking it.

"I'll take your silence as a yes," Hal inferred. Bruce was watching him, although this new silence felt different; charged, Bruce's gaze on him now felt heavy. "Come now, Spooky," he said.

Bruce continued his silence. Hal made his way toward the door and in doing so, unavoidably toward Bruce, Bats didn't move though. Bruce tracked his every movement.

"We can do a little better than that can we?" He asked. "You are the big bad bat after all." He said when he had crossed half the distance between them.

He had to slip past and brush against Bruce to leave the break-room, but he paused and lowered his voice. "If you aren't unsurprised that I'm still able to surprise you..." He paused here, Bruce had turned his head and was looking down at him, his mouth was parted. The sudden realization of how close their faces were was striking but Hal kept his smirk firmly in place and even played it up, even when his focus was on how he could feel Bruce's breath on his face and how it felt like it was quicker then it should have been. "How will I ever be able to take you seriously, Spooky?"

He flicked one of the Bat's ears and slipped away, laughing. His heart was thundering wildly in his chest contrary to his grin and his laugh. The moment he rounded the corner his grin slipped and he chugged his second coffee.

He was fucked. Well, and truly, _fucked_. 

The treacherous beat of his own heart told him that. He cursed himself for not letting himself realize this sooner because now... it would be too difficult to put a stop to. Too difficult to resist. He hated Bruce and himself in that moment, because his heart was a traitor. And he was a liar, he lied to himself the most and now it was getting him into trouble. 

And Bruce was an asshole, so he hated him on principle. 

But, yes, his point still stood:

 _Well, and truly, fucked._  

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> sup, the tags are bare. i know, they will be updated as i update the chapters, bc i don't want to give the juicy details away too soon. so if you reallllly want to know the details of what happens ect just wait until all the chapters have come out.
> 
> (also all mistakes are mine blah blah, but they will probably be fixed and edited very shortly after this is originally posted)


	2. the second revelation: carol (with additions from tom)

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> carol, as always, has to tell hal what he already knows but doesn't want to hear. or rather, isn't ready to admit to himself.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> sorry if the flow of this is super choppy, i tried to make as not-choppy as possible but idk it still feels choppy. be prepared for the total and complete a b u s e of italics. i'm sorry in advance. i still hope it's enjoyable though. also sorry that it took so long for me to upload this (more on that in the end notes).

He landed on his balcony silently, his mind continued to whir. There were thousands of thoughts flowing through his mind, to quiet them he gladly accepted the sight of Carol and Tom in his apartment rummaging through his kitchen. It was something they regularly did; invading his apartment, but in this case it was gladly welcomed, they also knew him better than he knew himself and likely knew he hadn’t gone grocery shopping in three weeks.

"Jesus, Hal," Carol said, startled, nearly dropping the eggs she had been inspecting.

Tom was bravely delving deeply into his refrigerator, he almost banged his head coming out. "Yeah, _Jesus, Hal._ " He repeated, he extracted himself with seeming immense difficulty. "Do you ever clean this thing? And do you ever go food shopping?"

Looking into the opening Tom had left, he figured it was a good thing he had skipped out on using his own ingredients to make breakfast.

"I—I clean," he protested. They gave him matching looks of disbelief. "And I food shop.... _sometimes_." He added.

Carol rolled her eyes. "You're sickening," she kindly let him know. "Also, your milk..." she looked at the expiration date. "Is six weeks past expiration." Her face grew more and more disgusted the longer she looked at the container.

Tom frowned. "Hal... your last mission was only two weeks long."

Hal didn't like their close scrutiny. He shrugged, "Whatever, okay?" He finally said. "It's fine, I'll go food shopping tomorrow."

Carol and Tom exchanged a look. With a shake of her head Carol said, "Oh no, we will be by again tomorrow. With fresh groceries. With _actual_ nutrients in them." She grinned, talking stiltedly as if he were a child.

Hal groaned. "You guys are annoying."

When they finished throwing basically everything from his refrigerator into the trash they headed to the living room, he charged his ring and sat down on the couch with Tom and Carol who were both staring at him.

"What?" He grumbled. He didn't like it, it reminded him of Bruce. That's not what he needed.

"Spill," they ordered at the same time. They shot each other a look and then returned their hawk like gazes to him.

He sighed, "Well, the mission was quite—"

"Not that! What's got your panties in a twist?" Tom elaborated.

Hal swallowed. "Nothing, it's nothing," he said, a little too quickly. Their eyes lit up. "There's nothing."

"What. Is. It?" Carol demanded, eyes of steel and face of pure determination.

Hal considered his options. He either tell them, which didn't seem too bad. Other than them knowing, and having them bring it up occasionally, and tease him about it, and give him meaningful looks and things of that nature. Or, he spare his pride and not say anything and lose even more of his sanity by having Carol and Tom badger him about it.

"Zatanna," he conceded. Tom grinned wolfishly. "Not like that! You heathen." Tom began to pout. Carol clicked her tongue and shot Tom a look.

"Go sulk in the corner Tom, it's ruining my mood,” she told him, she even added a dismissive wave of her hand. That only made him pout more harshly, she smirked at him teasingly and Tom opened his mouth to retort.

Hal continued before  _that_ escalated, "She said Spooky and I had sexual tension."

Silence.

_Complete and utter silence_. Not a single noise to be heard.

He dared to look at their faces. Maybe expecting shock, or maybe silent laughter. But no—what he saw was far worse. Tom looked confused, not about the situation—about why Hal thought this was a huge deal, why he was freaking out about it. And Carol, well she was just blinking at him like he was stupid.

"I don't—I don't understand how no one..." He stopped. Then, "Okay, why are you guys not shocked? I'm fucking pissing myself, I'm so surprised. Why do Diana and Zatanna and Barry and Ollie think we have sexual tension?" Hal made a disgusted face but really he was scared. He wanted to talk about it, but he was also scared to talk about it. About what else might be said but Ollie wasn't stupid. Or at least not all the time. So, an  _outside perspective_  and all that shit.

Carol continued blinking at him.

Finally, she opened her mouth. "Hal," she said. "Did you ever consider that maybe if everyone else is seeing it that it might be there?"

Hal let out a breath. Well, yes. He'd considered that. She's just feeding his thoughts back to him. Carol is good at that, telling you what you want to hear when you want to hear it, when that's what you need to hear. But if it's not, well then... good luck.

"Have you also considered that while Zatanna and Diana who are neutral parties with no reason to lie—Diana who _can't_ lie, by the way—Barry and Oliver are two of your closest friends in the League, why would they tell you they saw it if they didn't?" She inquired.

"Outside of us," Tom added.

"Outside of us," she agreed, with a small smile on her lips. Hal decided he hated them both, they were the worst; he wanted them to tell him what he wanted to hear... not—this shit.

"You guys are the worst," he stated petulantly.

Tom laughed. "You've only just figured that out?" He inquired.

"Hal?" Carol asked, suddenly sounding serious. "We know how you feel about everyone thinking the two of you have sexual tension. But what do you feel about you and Bruce having ‘ _hypothetical’_ sexual tension?" She put quotations around the word hypothetical unnecessarily, enunciating it like she clearly didn't believe it was _'hypothetical'_.

Hal rolled his eyes, and then he glared at her as she had asked the only question he hadn’t wanted to be asked. Not only had she asked it, she had asked it in a way were he couldn't deflect or dodge it.

If she'd asked how he felt about it he could have deflected with a hand to his stomach and a sick look and said, "Like I shouldn't have made breakfast this morning."

But she hadn't, because in all likelihood, she knew that's exactly what he would do. He sighed.

"What I feel is—tired," he said. "I'm fucking tired."

Carol narrowed her eyes. "Oh no," she told him. Her tone had become deadly. "You are not getting out of this. You are going to say what you feel, and get it out of your stupidly thick skull. Then you are going to thank me for it."

Hal paled, he looked at Tom for support but he only said, "Don't look at me. I totally agree with her, for once. I think you should say what you feel."

"I...I don't know what I feel," Hal finally told them. It was and wasn't the truth. "There is something there, I know that, but I don't know what it is. And...and, he's fucking infuriating, he knows just what to say to get under my skin. He can get under my skin and make me furious in two seconds. I—I, I'm not sure _what_ I feel. All I know is that he's gotten under my skin and stayed there—and I  _hate_ it."

"You've got it  _bad_ bad," Tom declared, rather unhelpfully.

Hal just reminded silent, refusing to meet their eyes. He had kept all that in for so long, all of it. Now it was out there and he'd been the one to say it. The words were spoken and now he couldn't ignore them. He wouldn't have been able to ignore it anymore even if he hadn't said anything, after everything that had happened.

Finally Carol tapped his shoulder, and he turned his head to meet her gaze. She looked at him with a small smile, her eyes held understanding but also pity.

"You're in love with him," she said. She single-handily demolished Hal's brain function with that single sentence. No one was home upstairs. Hal tried to process that statement several dozen times through the following conversation and came up blank.

"I don't think he was ready for that," Tom murmured.

"Someone needed to say it," she replied.

"Yeah, well, do you see the look on his face?"

“Of course I do! He's blankly staring _through_ me," she told him. "It's a little disconcerting."

"I told you—he wasn't ready to hear that," Tom said. "Our best friend is brain dead because of you."

"Shut up," she muttered. She began waving her hands in front of Hal's unseeing eyes. He was still processing. "Hal!  _Hal!_ "

"Can you repeat that?" Hal finally questioned. He blinked and looked at her, like no time had passed, like he hadn't been trying to see through her for two full minutes.

"You're... _in love_ with him?" She asked, hesitant.

Hal took a shuttering breath. "Yeah, I need a beer," he said. "You guys want a beer?" He questioned as he got up and went to his kitchen, the beer was the only thing that had not expired, as it was new. Ollie had gifted it to him the day he left for his last mission.

They exchanged a look.

"No, thanks."

"I'm good."

* * *

 

Hal tried to get tipsy enough to convince himself he was drunk so he could forget the conversation with Tom and Carol, particularly what Carol had said.

Particularly the fact that he hadn't tried to deny it. Once he had his two minutes of self-evaluation he realized that she was  _right_. He had been in love Spooky for a while and been ignoring it, telling himself he hated him. At first he really _did_ hate him, but then he actually  _looked_  and saw the things beneath the surface that Bruce didn't really try to hide but also didn't want people to see at the same time, and the other things that Bruce went to great things to keep people from seeing. And that's when things spiraled out of control, his fucked up brain mixed up signals and instead of recognizing his interest it was like _fuck you, I hate this guy._  

He knew what he felt now, sure. He knew how it happened. He knew all that but he still didn't know what to do about it in a way where he wouldn't be rejected or embarrassed. Usually when he was interested in dating someone, which wasn't very often for him, and when it did come most of the time he repressed the urge to act upon it given the fact of who he was and what he did. People not knowing both sides of your identity made it nearly impossible for romantic relationships. Usually he just went for or was even interested in hook-ups, casual flings, and one-night stands, those were his kind of thing. He knew how to do that, the rest of it he just guessed at. 

When he and Carol had dated he had loved her, he had, truly. She was enamored with the Green Lantern, and Hal was still just Hal. When the two had been reconciled was when Hal realized that he couldn't do relationships with someone not knowing who he was, all of who he was; or at least all of what he did for a living. 

So, this interest he has in Bruce, he can't tell himself to repress it because it isn't— _can't be—_ a possibility because that's utter shit. What he had realized when he was with Carol and then was solidified when they had broken up; he cannot be in a serious relationship with someone who doesn't know. That's why he refused to be interested in so many women and occasionally men past the night. There were some he would call back but it was clear what it was for, he didn't feel anything for them in that sense but he did care. He just couldn't _be_ with them, he couldn't date them. 

But Bruce knows. Which makes it so much better and so much worse. Better because this interest doesn't have to be repressed any longer, which was so clearly failing anyway. Worse, because he doesn't have to repress this interest any longer. 

He doesn’t know what to do with all that.

* * *

 

He ignored it. 

As that seemed to be his solution to everything these days. 

John and Kyle both touch down the next day, blessedly late, both having ran into their own set of trouble. Hal greets them at the Tower with a grin on his face, his hair is windswept which covers the bed-head he had. John gave an appraising look and then makes a noise that sounds like disgruntlement. 

"Hey, what's that for?" Hal's voice scratched. John narrowed his eyes. "Don't mother-hen me! I've yet to forgive either of you for the _'don't start a war'_ shit," Hal declared. 

"Is that so?" Kyle inquired with an amused look. Hal hit him for it. 

"Hey!" The boy squawked.

"There is no need for violence," John finally spoke. If anything his tone and look had gotten more disapproving. 

Hal glared at them both. "What is it, mother?" He asked John. 

"You look terrible," the man said bluntly. 

Kyle began laughing and then regain control of himself only to rub salt into Hal's already gaping wound. He frowned. "He's right, you do. You look like ass. Is that why you really called us for help? Because you can't handle this by yourself?" He questioned. It was teasing but Hal did see genuine concern there. 

Hal made a growling noise in his throat and made grabby hands for Kyle's neck. Kyle just laughed again before taking flight through the halls of the Tower. Hal right on his heels, Hal did hear how John sighed and called after them, "Be careful! And don't murder each other too terribly!" 

Hal thought that was funny for some reason but couldn't pinpoint why, because suddenly he was hurtling into Kyle. He gripped Kyle around the waist as they careened through the League meeting room, which as Hal recalled was where he was supposed to take them to begin with. They landed and Kyle struggled to obtain a better position but Hal still had his arms locked around Kyle's waist and used that to his advantage, he lifted just a little and rolled until Kyle was below him and released his arms. He pressed his forearm into Kyle's throat and Kyle fought for a minute before giving up. Hal grinned. 

"What on earth?" He heard. 

He looked up to see the rest of the League sitting disgruntled and surprised at the table. Hal got off of Kyle, still with a triumphant grin and said, "Bow down, Kyle. You still got some things to learn."  

Kyle pouted but accepted Hal's hand to help him up. John entered and took in the scene. "I see you haven't murdered each other," he surmised. 

They shared a devious look. 

"Not _yet_ we haven't," Kyle said around a grin. 

"We just haven't been trying hard enough," Hal replied at the same time. 

John looked to rest of the League solemnly. "I'm sorry for them," he said. "I really am." 

"Hey!" They both exclaimed. 

"We're a delight," Hal added just to one up Kyle. Kyle glared at him. 

"Lanterns," Diana greeted regally. She was always regal. Kyle smiled at her and Hal cuffed the back of his head and ushered him into a chair.  

Clark looked bemused, Barry and Oliver were trading cash, Diana had a small smile on her face and Bruce was just sitting there. All spooky like. Scowling. Hal's eyes barely looked at him for the entire meeting. 

"Shall we begin?" Clark questioned, eyes flicking from Hal to Bruce like he could sense something was off. 

"Waitin' on you, cowboy," Hal replied as he sat, smirking like he didn't feel the eyes boring into his face from the other side of the table. 

Ignore. Ignore, ignore, ignore.  

Clark laughed and began explaining. 

It was harder then he had been expecting to ignore him, his eyes kept wanting to drift in that direction, he kept wanting to look for some reason, just to look. He kept finding himself thinking what the man looked like while he was talking, how his lips formed words. Even though he knew, because how many times has he seen Bruce talk? What Carol had said... he... _shit_.   
  
By the end of it Kyle and John had the run down of the entire plan, knew the ins and outs, and were very tired from having traveled so far. Hal shoved them toward the guest rooms of the Tower, the ones designated for them, not before Kyle gave him a devious looking smirk and looked over his shoulder.

He shuffled closer to Hal. "So, you always talk shit about Bats… but I think I get it now," he said quietly. Hal clenched his jaw but other then that kept his face blank and huffed. 

"Get what?" He growled, that didn't help. That gave away a lot. Also it was very Bruce like. 

"It's because you dig him right?" Kyle asked quickly. To quick for Hal to have processed the words really and when he did Kyle was dancing away laughing when Hal lunged for him. Hal wasn't even trying to get to him though because he was stuck, rooted almost to the spot. 

Thinking. 

If Kyle had noticed it and Carol and Tom and Diana and Zatanna. Everyone was noticing it. Hal sighed. 

This wasn't going to end well for him. 

* * *

 

He met up with Ollie and Barry in the training room. The plan being to train and then he and Oliver take over watching the monitors from Arthur, Bruce, and Diana. Barry had a date with Iris so even though it was his turn on the monitors Ollie decided to be decent and take over for him. 

That was the _plan_. That wasn't how it happened. 

They did train, yes, but when entered the monitor room Arthur was already gone, and Diana and Bruce were talking in low tones. Bruce's head lifted and turned when they entered and he looked directly at Hal, Hal merely sat in one of the chairs and began watching the monitors. Diana stared at him a minute, trying to access him, and Ollie stood in the doorway still. He clearly sensed the tension but didn't know where—or whom—it came from or how to act because of it. 

Hal turned on it the rolling chairs around and pointed at it, "Sit, Oliver," he said. "If you keep standing like that, behind me and blocking the doorway, you'll make me nervous." 

Ollie sat. 

Oliver looked at him, Hal looked back, Ollie raised his eyebrows and Hal knew what this meant. Hal's own eyes widened, he shook his head as his face morphed into anger and betrayal. He was about to open his mouth to verbalize this silent argument when Diana cut in. 

"Oliver," she called. They both stopped making faces and silently screaming at each other without words to look at her. She simply looked at them, not surprised at all, not at all like she had just seen them do what they just did. "Bruce just informed me that there is an issue with the circuit breaker, as one of the monitors doesn't seem to be working. Will you come help me?" She asked. 

She was Wonder Woman for crying out loud, she didn't need help with anything, especially from a man and they all knew it. They were all plotting against him. 

Oliver looked at him and Hal narrowed his eyes, half-daring him to accept because then he'd—Oliver grinned, "Of course," Oliver said. 

"Oh, you _bastard_ ," Hal muttered. 

Ollie chuckled. 

"I'm sure we'll get this little problem sorted out in no time at all, Hal, don't you worry," Ollie told him. Hal glared at their backs until the door slid shut behind them. Hal slid lower in his chair and glared resolutely at the monitor in front of him. 

Bruce turned in his chair and stared at Hal. Hal refused to acknowledge him or look at him. 

"Are you seriously going to ignore me?" He questioned. "You're giving _me_ the silent treatment?" 

Hal huffed and refused to reply which was good as a reply as any. 

"I can't say I'm surprised," Bruce said eventually.  "I can say, however, that I'm _surprised_ I'm _not surprised._ " 

Hal took in an involuntary breath at that, it was his own words thrown back at him, just in a different capacity. He still wouldn't reply. 

"Usually any grown man who stoops as low as the silent treatment would surprise me," Bruce continued. "But, coming from you it is completely, wholly, not surprising in the slightest." 

Hal turned in his chair so quickly it almost toppled over. "Oh, _fuck off_ , Spooky!" He exclaimed. "I can deal with _this_ however the fuck I want to and if ignoring you is the way I want to do it there is not a damn thing you can do about it." Bruce had his lenses down, but that wasn't the most surprising thing, he just smirked at Hal and didn't reply. Hal thought about what he had been doing and then about what he had just said. "Oh, _double-fuck_ you," Hal finally said. 

"It's nice that you're finally acknowledging that I exist," Bruce replied. 

"Fuck off." 

"Is that what you really want?" Bruce asked, his voice was different than it had just been. It was serious—it had an edge to it, when before it had been bordering on playful, teasing almost. 

Hal looked at him and clenched his jaw. "That's not fair," he muttered. 

"I think it's completely fair, Hal. You said before 'I can deal with this' what did you mean?" He asked. Hal took a deep breath. Bruce's eyes were piercing on a regular day, when the lenses were down but now it was amplified a thousand fold. 

"You know what it meant," Hal said. " _You know._ " 

 "If ignoring me is really what you want to do, I'm not going to stop you." He said. Hal wanted to punch him. "However, I'm not going to help you do it, I'm not going to make it easy for you. As what just happened can be a prime example, I can be  _fairly hard_ to ignore when I want to be." 

Hal clenched his fists to hide the shudder that wanted to come through. He hated himself because in his mind in all capitals he thought, _DON'T I KNOW IT!_

He wanted to scream. "Whatever," He replied, feigning nonchalance. "I know your tricks now, all I have to do is not let them get to me." 

Bruce smirked again, only this time there was something different about it. There was something in his eyes now that Hal could see them, something heated. "You don't know them _all_ ," Bruce stated. He turned back to his monitor after staring at Hal for a moment where Hal contemplated castrating himself right then and there.

Problem solved. 

* * *

  
  
The mission itself was successful, for the most part.

Everyone executed their part perfectly, Bruce had explained the plan and their part in it to his sons and their companions separately. The warship was orbiting Earth but had yet to attack or even send anything out but a message but they knew it was coming, because of said message. When the warship doors opened all hell broke loose, Hal did his job, the plan was riding on him, Clark, and Diana.  All Hal and Diana had to do was destroy the essential parts of the ship that kept it afloat and from getting away, Clark was to aid in that up until the ship fell. Everyone else's job was to protect and evacuate the stray citizens, and fight the swarms of aliens coming from the ship. 

Easy enough. 

They'd done much harder things much more easily. That was until wrecked, debris from the still floating ship started to fall. Hal concentrated on the construct he held, the knife that was plunged into the side of the ship, making sparks fly—watching the innards of machinery flicker and die. He looked down, saw the debris heading for the ground and then glanced at where it was headed and felt cold.  His constructs wavered, the vault he had made to surround the hoard that had come after him flickered and he forced himself to focus enough to keep it up.

It was headed directly for where Bruce, Dick, Jason, and Kory where battling their own— _much larger_ —hoard. Roy was posted on top of a surrounding building shooting them out of the sky. 

Hal didn't have to think about what to do before he did it, his body just acted on it's own. Or more accurately, his ring made his body act on his own will. He didn't think about where Clark was, or where Diana was. 

He made a construct large enough to catch the debris, but even in the back of his mind he knew that wouldn't last as he did it, he knew making a construct that big after everything he'd done was pushing him to his limits. When the construct started to shatter he already had formed a circular barrier around them, Kory was in the air so Hal constructed a quick rope around her ankle and pulled her down. She let out a startled cry. He imagined it being impenetrable, unbreakable, that no matter what, they'd be safe. Hal felt his will cement but the vault and knife constructs flickered and died. He breathed in relief that they were safe, for a brief moment he swore he locked eyes with Bruce, but then the hoard was upon him. 

He was tired and a little beat up but he was fairly unhurt, that didn't seem matter. They were on him too fast for him to do anything, and all his concentration needed to be on keeping his comrades safe. There was a sharp pain in his gut that he knew was a knife but he barely felt it, too wound up on adrenaline. His suit sputtered and died as he fell from the sky, he thought he heard a scream; he thought briefly it might’ve been him.

He was free falling for a short beat and then nothing. Blackness. 

He was in and out of it, but in it to have heard Bruce shout, "John, take Hal's position." The next time he opened his eyes the ship was falling out of the sky and Clark was under it, flying it away, Kyle and Jason were above him. Kyle was pressing down on his wound with a distraught expression. Jason was feeling around his scalp and seemed to be assessing for other injuries. He turned his head and Jason grunted. 

"Don't _do_ that," he scolded. "You might be concussed. There could be a brain bleed."

"You sound just like your father," Hal grumbled. His voice was scratchy and hoarse. "I'll turn my fucking head if I want to, I saved your life, let me do what I want." 

Jason looked like a deer caught in headlights for a moment before he nodded and shook his head, a slight smile on his face—on his _unmasked_ face, Hal was just noticing. Maybe he really was concussed. 

"You sure _are_ something else." Jason commented. 

"Yeah, a _saver of lives_ ," Hal replied. He closed his eyes for a moment. When he opened them it seemed like several more moments than he thought had gone by. 

Jason laughed. 

He didn't turn his head, just shifted his eyes as far as they would go and saw that a whole ring of people surrounded him and were still fighting the remaining aliens. They were _protecting_ him. Dick, Kory, and Zatanna stood spread apart fighting them close by. Roy was once again in a surrounding building, but the building he was in had changing so he was closer, and John flew around them using some kind of laser construct. 

Hal's eyes flicked to Jason's and then to Kyle's. They were both equally useful in the medical field, but here someone else in the air would be useful in the cleanup of the last of the hoards. He caught Kyle's eye, Kyle was staring at his wound and his hands with a blank look. 

"I'm fine," Hal said, he forced it to sound like the truth. "Go help them."

Kyle's eyes went wide, his brows pinched and he began shaking his head. " _What_ , no—”

Hal nodded toward John and kept in the wince that wanted to escape at the motion. Jason was _definitely_ right. "Look at John, he clearly is in need of some help," Hal tried for a smirk, felt like it was off by a mile. But it must’ve land somewhere because Kyle stared at him for a minute and then looked at Jason. 

"I got him." 

Kyle swallowed and then nodded. Jason moved to take over putting pressure on his wound. He gave Hal one last look before taking flight. He finally let his eyes droop when Kyle was out of sight. 

"Hey, moron," Jason called to him. "Don't start with that. I told him I got you, don't make me a liar." 

Hal cracked his eyes open with some difficulty, his whole body felt heavy, like he was under two tons of rocks but at the same time he was the rocks. He was _totally_ concussed, but not concussed enough to know when he was being dissed.

"It's rude to call the person who saved your life— _at great personal expense_ I might add—names," Hal replied dryly. 

Jason nodded easily. "Yes, so you really shouldn't die so I can thank you properly," Jason agreed. 

Hal made a noise of disagreement. "You would never," Hal muttered. 

"This is literally like the first time we've ever spoke. How do you know?" 

"You just seem like the type," he responded with a pained smile. Jason smiled back at him. 

Hal's eyelids felt heavy and closed on their own. 

* * *

 

The next time he woke it was to Clark's hand on one of his hips, his other hand prying away the shirt he had worn under his shirt. Clark looked at him with concern, sympathy, and something that concerned him more than all the rest. Even in his cloudy, confused state he knew Clark looking at him with guilt wasn't a good thing. 

"This is going to hurt, Hal," he said. Hal's head was fuzzy. He could barely see Clark through the black was encroaching. "I'm sorry." 

 "Is he going to be okay?" He heard Barry ask, sounding desperate. 

"Hold him down." Clark ordered, his grip becoming just the slightest bit more firm but not any tighter. 

Hands came out of seemingly nowhere to hold him down, but he had a mere moment to focus on that before searing hot pain pierced the sight of where he had been stabbed. It felt like a piece of the sun was entering his body. He thought about that for a second and hysterically felt the need to laugh but all that came out was a strangled scream. 

The pain only lasted for a second before the blackness that had been encroaching upon his vision finally, blessedly won out and he passed out again. 

 

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> again !!! sorry for the like massive delay, i thought that by now i'd be uploading the third chapter. but i just moved and that took a lot longer then expected, and was supper draining mentally and physically. also i'm not sure if this is gonna be three chapters or five... it might still just be three but we'll see. (i'm thinking five but...) 
> 
> also sorry for any mistakes as usual, they are indeed mine :| i usually read over it and then upload it and then re-read over it obsessively once it's been published and find mistakes and edit/fix them. this time i went over it more but idk.


	3. the third revelation: clark (with a pep talk from jason, dick, and surprisingly—damien)

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> clark flies in and has a chat with hal. what is revealed is on the edge of his mind until jason just slams through his defenses with a sledgehammer and tells him to get his shit together.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> so... it's been decided that this will be 5 chapters instead of three. also, be prepared y’all bc this chapter is mostly family feels like fr and also sum more good batlantern flirting.

When Hal came to full consciousness it was slow and stilted, interrupted only by drug induced sleep winning out. He opened his heavy eyes that felt they had been glued shut and looked around. He was in a hospital room, that was immediately evident and not in the least bit surprising considering what the last of his memories where. What was jarring however was who was sitting in the chair next to hospital bed he currently occupied. It wasn’t who he had expected it to be in the least.

 

It wasn’t Oliver or Barry or Kyle or John, it was Bruce. _Bruce_. Fucking Spooky of all people. Which wasn’t shocking, or surprising really. It was just jarring. He just hadn’t _expected_ to wake up in the hospital and look to the chair beside him and see Bruce Wayne. That hadn’t been what he’d expected. It was a little fucking weird, if he did say so himself. Bruce was hunched over slightly, but still sitting straight up, his eyes were closed and he seemed to be dozing. Hal wondered how long he had been sleeping, or how long he had been out that Bruce dozed. He must have been exhausted with everything that had happened, but yet he was sitting there. Hal knew from experience those hospital chairs were uncomfortable _as fuck_ , they were not built for the longevity of your ass—and from the look of things he _had_ been there for a while—even with as tight a sphincter as Bruce’s he must be uncomfortable.

 

Hal stared for a while before he took in the time on the clock hanging on the wall. It was 9:46 PM, they’d launched their attack at around noon. Hal didn’t know how long they were fighting or how long clean-up took but he thought he had probably been in this hospital bed for at least a few hours. He looked around and found the little remote that controlled his bed, he pushed the button so his position changed and he was now sitting up. As soon as the bed began making noise Bruce opened his eyes and sat up straight, they locked eyes for a moment and Hal swallowed.

 

“How do you feel?” Bruce asked him. He stood, grabbed the jug of water and glass on the bedside table—filled the glass. “Are you in any excessive pain? Do you need more pain medication?” He handed the glass to Hal.

 

Hal accepted the glass and gulped it’s entirety before he responded. “I’m fine,” he said. Bruce looked disgruntled with that response. “I am, it hurts but not terribly. Nothing I can’t handle, I’ve had much worse.”

 

Bruce just continued to stare at him. Hal stared back, he thought that if not for the drugs and the concussion he might have made a face or said something sarcastic.

 

“How is everyone?” Hal questioned. He had enough faith in them to know they got the job done, but he wasn’t naive enough to know they were all uninjured. If anything truly terrible had happened Bruce wouldn’t be here, so he was comforted the littlest bit in that. 

 

“They are fine,” he replied. Bruce’s eyes held something with depth that Hal was too out of it to fully understand, he did understand that it meant something _more_. “Thanks to you.”

 

Hal frowned. “I didn’t save everyone,” Hal told him. “I saved you.”

 

Bruce looked like he had been slapped in the face unexpectedly by many different emotions and didn’t know how to process how he felt about that. He swallowed. “Yes,” he replied eventually. “You did save me. And my sons.”

 

Hal waved him off. “I know, I’m pretty great aren’t I?” He asked rhetorically, he already knew the answer. “Hal Jordan, saver of lives. Particularly, saver of the Gotham Bat. That has a nice ring to it. Doesn’t it?” He grinned dopily. Bruce just shook his head, although he looked like he was hiding a slight smile. Hal thought hazily, in the back of his mind, that he’d really like the see that again. Unimpaired.

 

“You’re going to hold saving my life over my head, aren’t you?”

 

“You can bet you spooky little ass I am,” Hal replied tiredly. Bruce chuckled.

 

Hal really liked the sound.

 

“You are something else _entirely_ ,” Bruce murmured, almost sounding awed. 

 

“Jason said something similar,” Hal said. Then he frowned. He was tired, and wanted to sleep but he wanted to talk to Bruce more so he said, “Right after he called me a moron.”

 

When Hal looked at Bruce again, Bruce had a light in his eyes and he wasn’t trying to hide his smile this time. It was wider and it changed his whole face, it made him look younger and it lit something in Hal. It made Hal _want_ to keep talking, although Hal talked a lot, but it made Hal want to keep talking _specifically_ to make Bruce smile. Now that he knew what Bruce looked like when he smiled and what he sounded like when he laughed Hal wanted to see and hear those things again and again.

 

“What can I say? I taught the boy well.”

 

“I literally saved your life and here you are insulting me.”

 

Bruce laughed at that. They stared at each other for a moment, smiles on their faces before Hal remembered the questions he had yet to ask.

 

“Was anyone else injured?” He asked.

 

Bruce sobered and shook his head. “As badly as you? No. Only minor injuries, scrapes, bruises, minor burns. The usual things we encounter on an operation like this. Roy took some debris to the face and has a nasty cut above his eyebrow. Arthur took one of their staffs to the nose, and Ollie took several staffs to the face.” Hal nodded as he took all that in. “You though, have a minor concussion, dislocated shoulder, fractured your leg, and were stabbed with a serrated, curved blade. You almost bled out—Clark had to…”

 

Hal looked at him again as he remembered that agony.

 

“It felt like the sun,” Hal told him.

 

Bruce frowned, confusion clear on his face. “What? Hal...”

 

“When—Clark…when he was—when he—when he _cauterized_ the wound. It felt like a piece of the sun.” Hal told him. He thought of that moment where he felt the hysterical need to laugh and his stomach lurched. 

 

Hal felt hand under his chin pulling his face toward Bruce. He looked angry. “You almost _died_ , Hal,” Bruce hissed. “Do you _understand_ that?”

 

He understood, of course he understood. He had come close to dying many times before, hell, he _had_ died before. This was nothing. This was barely to be considered a close call in his eyes, his admittedly drugged and concussed eyes. His stance may differ once he wasn’t as concussed and drugged.

 

Then he thought about it differently, which took a bit longer. When it was himself risking his life or the thought of dying wasn’t as daunting because he knew the benefits outweighed the consequences, however, when it was someone he knew or cared for it was different. He hated seeing someone he knew or cared for risk their life, even though it was their job. An infinitesimal part of his brain still loathed it, and having to watch people he cared for die. He hadn’t thought about what it must have been like for his friends to see him be stabbed, to see the only thing protecting flicker and die and then him fall from the sky. They all probably thought he had been dead. No wonder…

 

“Yes, I understand,” He said calmly. “Had I died it would have been doing the thing that gives my life meaning, the thing that makes my life _worth_ living. Being the Green Lantern to me is more than the flashy green suit and the powers, it’s about the will to protect people. That will gives you the power. That’s what I would have died doing; protecting the people I was _charged_ with protecting. Protecting the people I charged _myself_ with protecting, the people I care about.”

 

Bruce was silent, he seemed lost. Lost for words and in his own emotions.

 

“I didn’t die, Bruce, I’m still here. Concussed, drugged, and with killer new scar to boot,” he smiled. Bruce took him in then, his whole person, like he had been resisting it, and like he was seeing Hal for the first time again. It was like he needed reassurance that Hal was really there, that was— _going to_ _be_ —okay. Bruce’s face twitched, like he still wanted to press the issue but couldn’t help be amused as one side of his mouth curled. “See, that’s better. Now, stop being such a gargoyle and go get me some pudding.”

 

“You could, at the very least, say please.”

 

“I saved your life,” Hal replied. Bruce merely raised his eyebrows. “Fine, please. _Happy?_ ”

 

“Thrilled.”

 

“I want chocolate!” He shouted to Bruce’s retreating form.

 

“You’ll be happy with what you get!” Bruce shouted back.

 

Hal sulked for a minute before he petulantly muttered, “He’s _such_ a dad.”

 

* * *

 

When Bruce returned Hal had fallen asleep again and when he woke Bruce insisted he stay with him, at his manor. To heal. Hal had just woken, was still a little woozy from the drugs and couldn’t wrap his mind around what Bruce had just said for a few minutes. When he did Hal still didn’t understand it, why couldn’t he just heal at his own apartment? He said as much.

 

“You are a large child on a regular day,” Bruce began. Hal scoffed.

 

“If this is you trying to convince me to do what you want, you are doing a shit job.”

 

Bruce looked up at the ceiling and made a face like he was looking for patience in the deepest depths of his mind before he sighed and looked at Hal again.

 

“I am saying that you are a big child on a regular day who doesn’t do too well at taking care of himself,” Bruce continued. Hal opened his mouth to protest and say some choice words for Bruce but he kept going. “So, as I was saying. You being even more incapable of taking care of yourself is incredibly burdensome on you. Your balance will be off, you can fly sure, but landing will be something else. You will need help with your shoulder and changing the dressings on your wounds because you only have one arm, at the moment. And your apartment isn’t really handicap friendly, so you’d have to walk up three flights of stairs.”

 

Hal took that information in, processed it, and stayed silent. Bruce stared at him and it was when he raised his eyebrows that Hal broke, “You’re an asshole.” He said.

 

“Yes,” Bruce agreed. “An asshole with a very large, comfortable home. That I would really like you to stay and recover in, you will probably do more damage to your body trying to do everything yourself. Let people help you. Let _me_ help.”

 

Hal considered this. He tried to feign as if it was a real choice but it wasn’t, and they both knew it. Hal couldn’t say no, not when Bruce was being so honest with him like he was, and when he had went all the way to the cafeteria to get him chocolate pudding. Hal let out a put upon sigh and said, “Fine, but only if Alfred makes those little sandwiches you brought into the Tower that one time.”

 

Bruce threw his head back and laughed, Hal drank in the sight. He couldn’t stop cataloging each and every image and sound of Bruce’s face when he smiled or laughed, or the way he sounded when he chuckled. He realized he was addicted to it and that he was on this train whether he wanted to be or not. It seemed the more he tried to ignore it or repress it the faster the train accelerated. Hal was on the train, and now that he wasn’t fighting it like he had been he realized it wasn’t a terrible place to be. He was resigned to it now, train or no train, derailed or train wreck, fate seemed to be waving this thing in his face so he might as well not try and fight it anymore. Or the way he felt. 

 

Doing something about it was something different entirely, though. 

 

Then Bruce suddenly smirked. “Wait, you mean the sandwiches you tried to fight me over?” He questioned.

 

“Those exact ones.” Hal replied around a grin.

 

There was a sudden a clamor of footsteps in the hallway outside of Hal’s room and then there were several faces peeking into his room. Bruce tensed and the Spooky mask was once again on and Hal didn’t know how he felt about that, if the twisting lurch in his gut was anything to go by he assumed it wasn’t good. Barry flashed himself next to Hal’s bedside and the look on his face was relief and desperation all at once.

 

“You’re okay,” He said.

 

Hal laughed. He hugged Barry with his one good arm, the other being in a sling and rubbed his back. “Yeah, I’m fine. You knew that, bud. You brought me here,” he replied. He didn’t think Barry was really listening to him. Barry had wiggled onto his bed and snuggled next to him on his side, Hal grinned. He kept up the soothing strokes on Barry’s back up to his neck. Hal looked up and saw Oliver, Kyle and John standing around the end of his bed. Hal gave Bruce a significant look and Bruce gave a sigh and pushed his chair back and out and stood.

 

“I’ll go get you some more pudding,” Bruce muttered.

 

“Isn’t he just the sweetest?”

 

Kyle snorted.

 

Oliver sat in the chair Bruce vacated and rested his hand on Hal’s knee, he smiled slightly. Hal smiled brightly back, they’d brought him here, he was in worse shape then but he was fine now. They’d stayed for a couple hours and then left to aid in whatever was left of the clean-up, but now they were back. Bags under their eyes, exhausted and so clearly terrified for him. He wanted them to know he was okay.

 

He looked to John and Kyle, John looked the most composed out of them all and even he looked quite worried, Hal smiled and nodded his head at him in greeting. Kyle was just staring at him with this broken open, little boy expression. It hurt. It hurt looking at him like that.

 

Hal patted the very little space left on the other side of his bed, his bad arm side. It was dislocated, not broken. It would be fine in a few days, the sling was entirely unnecessary. He’d dealt with far worse with far less resources. Kyle looked like a scolded puppy had been offered a belly rub and darted the side of the bed, paused when he saw the sling.

 

“I don’t want to hurt you,” He whispered.

 

“You won’t,” Hal told him. It sounded firm and sure, because he was sure. Kyle wouldn’t hurt him when he was already hurt, wouldn’t hurt him on purpose. When Kyle still hesitated Hal used a construct to push him on the bed. Kyle looked surprised. Bruce had given Hal his ring back before he’d woken up, he’d slipped it on his finger while he was still sleeping. They’d taken it off when they brought him to the hospital, to protect his identity and all that.

 

Kyle snuggled into his side as easily as Barry had, melted more like, though he was sure to be more careful. Kyle was lower on the bed, his head laid on Hal’s stomach so as not to be near his arm, he clutched at Hal’s hospital gown. They both didn’t even try to hide they desperation or neediness, he sighed. Barry sniffled a little and Hal laughed, not at Bar but at the atmosphere.

 

“The mood in here is so morbid,” Hal said. “You guys should be the ones trying to cheer me up, not the other way around.”

 

They were looking at him like he’d said something insane again.

 

John nodded, “Well, he isn’t wrong.”

 

“It was _almost_ like you said I was right just then, Mom.”

 

John grunted at him but it looked like he was trying to hide teeth in his shoulder, Hal counted that as several wins.

 

Kyle made an affronted noise and Oliver pouted and asked, “Whose side are you on?”

 

John blinked at Oliver for a second and then exchanged a silent look with Hal before he looked back at Ollie. John let out a breath, looked pointedly at Hal, then his hospital bed. “I’m on the side of the man in the hospital dress.” He replied.

 

“It’s a _gown_.”

 

John ignored him. “And, you should be too. Not only is he in a dress that shows his ass but he wasn’t wrong,” John told him.

 

“Again, the technical term, is a _hospital gown_. It’s not a dress!” Hal burst out. “Also, Mother, it’s as if it physically pains you to say I was right.” John’s lips turned down at the corners as he shrugged, it wasn’t denial, it was clear agreement. This—

 

“It does,” He admitted. He did not look at all sorry.

 

Kyle began laughing quietly into Hal’s stomach, and Barry let out little chuckles marred with hiccups. Oliver is looking between them all with this look on his face and then he smiles slowly.

 

“Okay, I guess, Hal is right. We should be cheering you up.” Ollie grinned suddenly and looked Hal up and down, said, “That hospital dress, really does suit you, Hal.”

 

“I’m gonna fuck you up.”

 

Ollie fell back into the chair he was laughing so hard, wheezing and gripping his stomach.

 

“ _Jesus_ , he sounds like he’s being drowned by the air,” Barry muttered, he lifted his head from Hal’s side to get a peak at the tears streaming from Ollie’s cheeks.

 

“H-how?” Oliver asks. “Gonna hit me with your sling? Kick me with your cast?” He seemed to find his own joke hysterical as it made him cry harder and wheeze more.

 

“I wish I was chosen by a different color ring,” John said. “Maybe then I wouldn’t have to deal with shit like this.”

 

* * *

 

When he told everyone where he was going to recover their reactions had varied, from shocked, to slightly aghast, to not at all surprised, to “tell me if those bathtubs are as good as I hear they are,” which was frankly quite odd. They all didn’t seem disapproving though which was good. Hal didn’t really care if any of them did disapprove, as Bruce had well convinced him that being taken care of while recovering was way better than taking care of himself. That was his reasoning. But he was glad and sort of relieved that none of them did disapprove.

 

Carol and Tom came to see him right before he was discharged and they were all concerned as he knew they would be, but they were equally as scolding about safety and the response time in which they were notified and blah, blah, blah. He blamed everything on Spooky. That was easy, but Carol didn’t accept that, she glared at him with red-rimmed eyes and told him that if got hurt again she’d kill him. He thought that that logic didn’t make sense and he was going to tell her so but then his eyes caught motion and Tom was shaking his head as he made vehement chopping motions with his arms. So, instead, he nodded.

 

Carol smiled and took a Sharpie out of her purse so she could add her signature to his cast. Tom shuffled quickly forward. Carol’s name was in neat script with hearts and smiley faces all around it, Tom’s name was in slanted, large print—he drew stars, a plane, bolts, and a wrench around his name. They both took a moment to survey the other names already there. Oliver’s name is in large, loopy, script—he drew an arrow horizontally through the O of his name. Barry’s is in messy print—he drew a bunch of lightning bolts around his name. Kyle wrote his name in all uppercase, in between the space in the Y he drew the lantern symbol. John’s signature was the kind where you couldn’t tell what the fuck it was supposed it be, or what it said, or make out the individual letters, like doctor signatures—he drew a small version of their batteries. Hal thought it was extremely funny and thoughtful but he also knew Bruce would rip him a new one for it.

 

Surprisingly when Bruce came in to collect him he just took a really long glance at it and said nothing but Hal hadn’t missed the slightest uplift of his mouth. Carol and Tom had never met Bruce when he was Bruce Wayne, only when he was in the Bat suit. They both stared at him oddly and openly for a few seconds before they tried to make their staring more discreet. Bruce greeted them with handshakes and a smile that was slightly too charming and open to really be all his. Carol and Tom seemed stunned by this, but gladly accepted his handshake, then they exchanged a look with each other.

 

“Hal will be in good hands,” Bruce assured. Hal rolled his eyes, if all he was trying to do was assure them he didn’t have to put on a whole act.

 

“I’ll take pictures of every inch of the place and send them to you,” Hal stage-whispered.

 

Bruce glared at him. “You will do no such thing.”

 

“Sure, I won’t,” Hal agreed, nodding. Although, he slid a look to Carol and Tom and winked. They turned in towards each other to try and stifle their laughter.

 

Bruce’s glare intensified, as if that was at all possible. 

 

* * *

 

 When Hal got to the manor, he wasn’t all that surprised. He’d been inside it before, the cave at least, but he’d never been in the actual manor itself. It was strange, it wasn’t surprising because this seemed to be the exact place that a man like Bruce Wayne would have grown up. In the same breath, it was surprising because it was different from everything he’d ever known. In the way everything seemed expensive, in the sense that the placement of every ornament and piece of furniture seemed deeply thought out. It was daunting walking into something like that, something so completely different, but he was also walking into an intimate piece of Bruce’s life.

 

When they got there, Hal mumbling and hurling curses at Bruce under his breath because Bruce had refused to let him leave his hospital bed—thus he couldn’t leave the hospital—unless he consented to being wheeled around in a wheel chair when he could damn well use crutches. Bruce thought it was amusing clearly, if the _amused_ look on his face was anything to go by. Hal petulantly said he was stupid in retaliation as Bruce wheeled him through the front doors and into the manor. Hal took note of the intricately trimmed hedges and thought having all that money must be nice.

 

They were only halfway into the manor when a hoard of people came running at them and Hal sighed. Of course. Jason, Dick, Roy, Kory, Alfred, and Damien had rushed in to greet him. Hal thought it was kind of sweet, even if he was a little annoyed.

 

Bruce made a grunting noise from behind him, after all the years of knowing Bruce Hal detected that it was one of displeasure. He looked up and saw Bruce frowning. “He needs to rest,” Bruce told them.

 

Hal began to from. Alfred opened his mouth as if to reproach him in a delicate manner but Hal pursed his lips, said, “Calm down, Spooky. You’re not my keeper, you are my _overseer_. There is a very distinct difference, you see. Now gently remove that stick from your ass, they have so kindly come to greet me. I did _save their lives_.” He made the pause intentional. “And you have to listen to me, at least for now. As I am so sick and ill, and in so much pain—because as I recall I did save your life too.”

 

Bruce stared at him for a moment before he looked to Alfred, who wore a slight smile. Jason had a grin on his face and he was snorting. Dick seemed to be dry heaving, Damien was glaring at him, said, “Get yourself together, Grayson!” That only made it worse. Roy was biting his lip and seemed to be looking for some inner peace, and Kory was outwardly giggling.

 

“I _do_ believe he is right, Master Bruce,” Alfred said, placatingly, after a beat.

 

Bruce said nothing.

 

Jason snorted again. “ _Ohmygod_ , this is so great. I love this. Watching you get owned in your _own_ home…is the _best_ thing that has ever happened to me. Hal, you are the best thing that has ever happened to this family.”

 

Hal didn’t know how to reply but he felt Bruce stiffen then loosen behind him, so he just grinned and laughed.

 

Dick seemed to have gotten himself together with the help of Damien hurling insults at him and Kory pulling him into a standing position. “It was kinda great…” Dick admitted. There was a flush on his face from all the laughing he had just done. “Sorry, Bruce, I’m siding with Jay here. Hal, can you do that more?”

 

“As often as you need me to.”

 

“Don’t encourage him.” He heard Bruce mutter from behind him. It only made him smile wider.

 

Damien was glaring at him and it uncannily reminded him of Bruce, but he thought it was cute. Even though he knew Damien could probably kill him. Damien had stayed silent the entire time except when Dick was choking on his laughter and now he narrowed his eyes at Hal and boldly stated, “I don’t like you.”

 

“Aren’t you _cute_?” Hal replied. Damien looked flustered for a split second before he looked like he was ready to start reaching for his concealed weapons. “But look here, Little Spooky, I don’t care if you don’t like me. I’m not the biggest fan of you, right now, you’re kinda giving me ‘Children of the Corn’ vibes—it’s a little creepy. As I’m not one to judge I might come to like you, if you don’t kill me in my sleep. And you will most definitely come to like me, most people do.”

 

Jason was snorting again and Dick was laughing outright. Alfred had a slightly wider smile on his face and he let out a small sigh.

 

“ _Little Spooky?_ ” Jason asked, broken with laughter.

 

“ _Children of the Corn vibes?_ ” Dick replied, tears in his eyes.

 

“Alright, I think that’s enough. Hal needs to rest.” Bruce declared.

 

“Wait!” Dick called. He, Jason, Kory, and Roy moved closer to him. “We just wanted to thank you. For saving us.” Hal shot an unimpressed look at Jason.

 

“This group thank you doesn’t get you off the hook. You still have to thank me, with your own words, coming from your own mouth. To my face. In person.” Hal told him. “Make it heartfelt.”

 

Jason laughed again. Green eyes crinkled at the sides, strip of white hair in his face, it lit up his whole face. Hal realized how much younger it made him look, how much more open and softer it made him look—compared to what he usually presented himself as. How much it reminded him of Bruce. Dick smiled looking at Jason and so did Roy.

 

“You bet,” Jason replied.

 

“I literally felt that lie in my soul,” Hal glared at him. He pursed his lips and then smiled. “Anyway, you guys don’t have to thank me.” Dick shot him a look.

 

Kory smiled at him and kissed his cheek. “Thank you,” she whispered.

 

Roy patted his shoulder. “Thanks, man.” He said. “I got to go home and see my daughter.” Hal decided he resolutely wasn’t going to cry.

 

Everyone looked to Jason who shrugged, said, “I need a day or two, he said to make it heartfelt. I can’t do that on the spot.”

 

Hal hummed and nodded. “Alright, but if I don’t get a grovelling thanks with tears you can just bring me a milkshake from that corner place the next time you come.” Jason just shook his head with a smile but didn’t disagree.

 

“Alright, everyone get out.” Bruce ordered.

 

* * *

 

Bruce showed him where his room was and and where the necessities were and then left. Hal immediately face-planted and went to sleep. The next morning he woke up to the sun shining through the curtains and the clock on the bedside table saying it was 9:26 AM, before he startled when he realized he wasn’t alone. Clark stood at the end of his bed, staring at him, like a complete creep. Hal placed his hand in the pearl clutch position and heaved a breath.

 

“What in the fuck, Clark?! You _can’t_ do that!” Hal exclaimed. “That’s also extremely creepy.”

 

Clark frowned at that. When he didn’t say anything Hal began to ponder why Clark would be in his room, watching him as he slept. None of the answers he came up with in his head were very good so he decided to ask.

 

“Why are you here, Clark?” He asked hesitantly. Clark looked back at him, as his gaze had drifted.

 

“I wanted to talk to you, but you were asleep…so I decided to wait,” he explained. That didn’t really make it better but…

 

“Talk about what?” Hal asked. Even though he had a feeling he knew where this was going.

 

“He doesn’t let anyone in,” Clark told him. “Because he’s afraid they’re going to hurt him, or those around him. And while those fears are founded…it’s prevented him from accepting _good_ things.”

 

Hal sat there and listened to that and processed that and then processed it again and still didn’t understand it. “I don’t—”

 

“What I’m saying is—that he—he doesn’t let anyone in and you still found a way in. People have hurt him in the past and I don’t want him to be hurt again, because I’m his friend. But also because he has made progress and I don’t want to see that ruined.” Clark said, all while he pinned Hal with his eyes.

 

Hal’s mind whirred. He understood but he didn’t understand; he was still mildly concussed. “I still don’t—”

 

Clark made a face and a displeased, disbelieving noise. “He invited you into his home, where his child lives—where his other children sometimes stay. You think this invitation is just handed out to anyone. He insisted you come here,” Clark reminded him.

 

Hal tilted his head. “Is this the shovel talk?” He questioned.

 

“Dear lord,” Clark muttered. “Just—I just don’t want him to be hurt again. Especially by someone he loves.”

 

Loves. That word in particular made his brain fry so he put a pin in it and decided to come back to it later. Hal thought about how Clark had come to talk to him about this, that all he wanted was to make sure his friend wasn’t hurt again. But that meant… Hal was seriously fucked.

 

“I won’t. I would never hurt him.”

 

Clark smiled slightly at that. “I know,” he said. “Just know that if you do, you will rue the day you were ever born.” His pleasant smiled only widened.

 

Hal grinned. “You can totally be an asshole when you want to, can’t you, cowboy?” Hal asked.

 

He just tilted his head, blue eyes shining oddly. He was clearly hearing other things. His eyes snapped back into focus, he grinned. “I do alright for myself,” he said. With that he flew out the already opened window.

 

A second later his door opened and Damien entered, when he saw that Hal was awake he scowled. “Alfred ordered me to come awaken you and alert you that breakfast is ready.” He said.

 

“Okay, thank you.” Damien scoffed and walked away without closing his door. “Hey! Mini Terminator!” He called.

 

Damien’s face popped back into his doorway a few seconds later and Hal grinned at the fact that he responded to his nicknames already. Damien had a face of extreme displeasure at Hal’s mere presence.

 

“Your father is adamantly against me using my own two legs for long distances. Is there any chance you can hand me that wheelchair right there?” He asks, trying to make his tone as friendly as possible.

 

Damien just continued to leer at him before he turned and got Hal’s wheelchair, he even popped and locked it into place and everything.

 

“Get in, cripple.” Damien demanded.

 

Hal laughed, but he still tried to protest. “I can wheel myself around.”

 

The Miniature Terminator looked him up and down a moment and then asked, “With your one undamaged arm?”

 

There was a beat of silence before, “Wheel away!”

 

They arrived at breakfast to see Tim, Jason, Dick, Alfred, and Bruce. Bruce was standing next to the coffee pot, practically hoarding it. Alfred was cooking, Jason, Tim, and Jason were fighting over food. Tim looked up and smiled at him and Hal smiled and waved in greeting.

 

“Awe, Damien, made a friend!” Tim teased. Damien pushed Hal’s wheelchair forward abruptly, but Hal caught himself.

 

“Shut up, Drake!” Damien shouted, turning pink. Jason laughed with food in his mouth. He was eating a muffin. Oh, yummy. Hal watched the exchange for a brief few seconds more before his stomach won out, but he thought the domestically of it all was so different than what he thought the Batman’s home life would be like when he first met Bruce. This is like any other home anywhere you look, with four rowdy boys.

 

It was a family. 

 

Then Hal couldn’t appreciate it any longer as his stomach was eating itself, he pointed at a plate and Dick passed him one he mumbled his gratitude. He pointed at all the muffins, “Gimme,” He said. Jason chuckled and packed his plate full. “Thanks,” He said slowly. “ _See_ , I can say it.” He teased. Jason rolled his eyes. He turned around and saw Bruce already looking at him. He pointed at the coffee pot. “Gimme.”

 

Bruce snorted but poured him a cup, put cream and one and a half sugars in it—as he learned Hal liked when Hal was in the hospital. Bruce brought the mug to Hal and Hal thanked him with a pointed look to Jason. Alfred finished the last of the food and sat with them.

 

“Mini Bruce, can you please pass me a napkin?” Hal asked with a sweet smile. A silence came over the table. Damien was sat directly in front of napkins, he pursed his lips but nonetheless passed the napkins to Hal. He had just been testing a theory but now he knew it to be true so he said, “Thank you, Damien.”

 

At that his head popped up in surprise and he looked startled, he smiled the tiniest bit and then looked like he caught himself doing it and flushed and went back to eating.

 

“Next time get it yourself, cripple.”

 

“Oh,” Hal said. “Children, they’re such a joy.”

 

He heard laughter from around the table and a few stifled snorts.

  

* * *

 

He sat with Dick, Jason, and Damien on the couch of some room, in some wing of the manor, watching a movie. He honestly didn’t know which. There were so many. They were half watching the movie because they were also talking to him.

 

“Father likes you,” Damien stated, curling his nose like he smelt something bad. And that something bad was Hal’s existence. “I cannot _fathom_ why.”

 

Jason snorted. “Don’t pretend like you aren’t smitten with Hal,” he replied.

 

Damien glared daggers at Jason. “I am not smitten with this cretin!” He protested, flushing.

 

Dick laughed. “It’s okay, Dami. We all know the truth. None of us got under your skin as quickly as Hal did, we know you like him.” Damien sulked. He tried to disappear into the couch he occupied but didn’t fire back, Hal took that as a win.

 

Hal had known Dick and Jason almost as long as he had known Bruce. Tim he had met later, and Damien much later. Even though he had known Bruce for years he had never really exchanged words with Jason until he was feeling around his scalp for injuries and calling him names. Dick was the people person of the family it seemed, he actually _sought_ conversation out with people. Tim was second in that aspect—or, as far as Bruce’s son’s were concerned. He had only seen glimpses of Damien but had never spoken to him, had never met him until Bruce wheeled him home. Dick and Tim he had conversations with, he had made fun of Bruce with Dick—he had talked to Tim about what space was like, what his diplomatic missions were like.

 

So, being in Bruce’s home and seeing them tease each other and argue over him was like he was watching a real life Inception. It filled him with a warmth and happiness he hadn’t felt in a while.

 

Jason smirked at Hal then looked at Damien sulking and tried to wipe the smirk off his face, it was mostly successful. “Well,” he started. “If you were smitten with Hal, squirt. You wouldn’t be the only one.” Damien made a choking noise and Dick looked both alarmed and amused at once. Damien sat up, seemingly done with sulking and stared at Jason.

 

“What ever do you mean, Todd?” He questioned, although it sounded like an insult coming from him.

 

He looked at Hal again and Hal was the one who tried to disappear into the couch. He knew exactly where this was going—he had known from the beginning hadn’t he?—but he had hoped, is it so wrong to hope?

 

“What do you think I mean, midget?” Jason replied. There was a short silence. In which Damien clearly took in what Jason was implying, as did Hal, and then Damien made an affronted noise.

 

“No! This cannot be—you are wrong. Father would never fall for the charms of such an imbecile.” He stated it so vehemently, so surely. Though, Hal could see the uncertainty of it in his eyes as he looked at Hal and then made a tutting noise of disapproval.

 

“You fell for his charms in a completely innocent, little boy way,” Dick pointed out. Damien looked ready to fight someone so Hal thought it was time to intervene.

 

“Okay, whether or not the little future scythe wielding, cloak wearing demon is smitten with my imbecile charms is not of any consequence. Teasing him about it is just going to lead to all this expensive, antique shit being broken and Alfred being silently angry. So, can we go back to the movie, please?” He reasoned.

 

Dick raised his eyebrows with a smile. “Nicely put. Alfred being mad is worse than Bruce being mad.” He said.

 

Jason just quirked an eyebrow. “No comment on dear old Bats being smitten by your charms?” He parried.

 

Hal turned towards him while he rolled his eyes. “No comment, there’s nothing to comment on. Damien already said it.” Hal told him. Jason narrowed his eyes, the smirk left his face.

 

“I know that’s a lie. He let you come here, while we were here,” Jason started. His tone was different, more ruthless. “The way he acts around you, with you. He’s calmer, softer. He listens to you. You make him listen. I’ve never seen him smile as much as I see him smile when he’s around you; like he can’t help himself. He’s not smitten, he’s in love.”

 

Hal opened his mouth but nothing came out.

 

There was that word again—love. 

 

“Jay,” Dick said, his tone was scolding. Damien’s face was pinched like he was going back in his memories to see if what Jason had said was correct, then his brows furrowed a little but he said nothing.

 

“No, shut up, Dick,” Jason ordered. “You are _pathetically_ in love with him back so…what the fuck? Do something, _say something_.” Jason stared imploringly at Hal while Hal stared back at him frowning.

 

Dick then said, “He’s not wrong,” He was grinning. “He’s never been this happy, or at least this free with it. And you don’t just make him happier, it’s us all.” Dick looked at Damien then, who was stubbornly silent, Dick reached over and pushed him.

 

Damien looked over and glared but then sighed. “Fine,” he uttered. “This is all completely inane that we are giving him a pep talk to go pick up our father but…” he looked at Hal finally and with all seriousness said, “I hate you slightly _less_ than I did when you first got here.”

 

There was a beat of silence before Dick and Jason started laughing. Hal bit his lip and smiled and reached over to ruffle Damien’s hair, Damien had sat next to him and Jason and Dick took the other couch—Hal thought that was also indicative of how Damien felt about him. “Thanks, shorty.” He said. When Damien didn’t pull away or cut his hand off he smiled wider. “Awe, Damien, you’re so cute!”

 

That did make Damien pull away, with a pout.

 

“I take it back,” He muttered sourly. “I hate you even more.” 

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> sooo, yeah, it's been a little bit. but with this being 5 chaps i can envision a whole opening and closing of a story that i think is true to the characters and those closest to them. i just thought that the story flowed better that way, i might be wrong ??? but i think it might be better this way. the fifth chapter is gonna be pretty short though, more of an epilogue sort of thing. the next chapter will be smut ?? steamy ?? i think ????? idk probably. most likely, that's what i have planned so just a warning. 
> 
> i read over this chap pretty dang thoroughly but as always i’ll come back a bunch and edit any mistakes. but hopefully there aren’t that many.


	4. the fourth revelation: bruce (with help from absolutely no one)

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Hal finally gets his shit together and acts on the knowledge that nothing will never happen between him and Bruce if he doesn't make it happen; if he doesn't say something.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> is anyone still here? it's been so long. i am soooooooooooooooooooo sorry for how long this chapter took me to upload. like i started writing this very shortly after i posted the last chapter but i had trouble with the actual sex scene which is like ?????? kinda wild to me. but this chapter is like 85% smut so.... maybe that's why. i was tryna write quality work so i think that's why it took so long (plus other reasons which will be at the end) but i still think i failed. comments and kudos are love <3

When Hal went to bed that night it was with many things on his mind, he had his confirmation that Bruce felt the same way about him from the people who knew him best. He had known Bruce felt something for him he just didn’t know to what depth that was to. He hadn’t known if Bruce’s feelings ran as deeply as his own did, that had scared him but hearing Jason and Dick tell him differently felt like more than relief. It felt like finally he could breathe.

He slept on what he was going to do, how he was going to go about this. The plan half-formed but that was all he really needed; he didn’t need a plan so much as he needed the right words. He figured sleep would help him figure those things out, it’s never failed him before—and if it didn’t work, at least he got a good nights rest.

* * *

He was awoken by Alfred opening his bedroom door and bringing in a cart with food on it, food that he could smell as soon as the cart was in the room. Food that aroused his appetite and made his stomach growl loudly. Alfred raised an eyebrow at him as he brought the cart to Hal’s bedside.

“You didn’t send the smaller Caped Slayer,” Hal commented, an inquiry in his tone. He took in the food in front of him hungrily but kept himself in check, he could have manners when he needed to—despite what some would think.

Alfred sensed the unasked question and cocked his eyebrow. “I did not,” He agreed. “I thought I would like to bring this to you myself. Plus, I thought you could use the rest. You would have gotten no rest if I had sent Damien.”

Hal laughed and took the top off one of the trays. It was an omelet that looked better than anything he had ever cooked in his entire life. He glanced up and saw that Alfred was still there and knew that him bringing this to him was about more then he was saying. Alfred took up the cup and jug of orange juice and began pouring.

“Thank you,” Hal said.

Alfred looked at him, confused and almost lost for a moment before he frowned. “You don’t have to thank me, Master Hal,” he admonished. He gave Hal a look like this was common sense. “I should be the one thanking you. You saved three members of my family and their loved ones.”

Hal’s mouth closed with an audible sound in shock as he stared. He was lost, coming from anyone else he would argue but coming from Alfred he couldn’t do that. It felt wrong. He also knew he’d lose.

“You also make Bruce happy. I am incredibly grateful to you for that.” He said sincerely.

“I don’t know how to take compliments,” Hal replied lamely, but it was true. He didn’t know what else to say to…all that.

Alfred gave him a dry look. “ _You don’t think_ ,” He sassed. “You must learn.” Hal just nodded.

“One other thing, Alfred?” He asked, before Alfred left.

“Yes?"

“How do I tell him?”

“Use your words.”

* * *

He took Alfred’s words to heart, or he tried to but they didn’t help because that’s what he had planned to do the entire time. Bruce came into his room later in the afternoon. After Hal had Miniest Bat wheel him back into his room after he was forced into leaving to bow to the child’s antics. He wanted to play chess of all things, for fun. He’d insulted Hal, when he’d complained about it, saying he’d literally rather die.

_(“Are you too incompetent and idiotic to know how to play? If so, I can teach you.” The little shit had said to him._

_So, obviously, Hal being a reasonable, rational adult accepted that challenge and spent two and a half hours playing chess—_ for fun _—with a child. Who beat him most of the time. Hal spiced it up though, of course, and for every piece he captured of Damien’s, Damien had to say, ‘Green Lantern is the best’. For every game he won he got to teach Damien a creative curse word._

_Damien wasn’t at all happy about it, but he was damn near gleeful every single time he won a game. Damien made up the rule that for every game he won Hal had to think of something fun for them to do. Hal thought that was extremely cute, that Damien just wanted to spend time with him. Even though the way it was stated was, “For every game I win, which will be all of them, you must think of something for us to do that will amuse me. You are probably intelligent enough for that task.” To add insult to injury he had looked at Hal like he seriously doubted his previous statement._

_When he tapped out Damien had looked victorious but Hal let him have it. He made him wheel him back into his room though, Damien scowled at him and complained and called him a “useless cripple”. Hal replied, “Watch it, this useless cripple might just show how much it hurts to be kicked with a cast.”_

_Damien made a scoffing noise and Hal rolled his eyes, he’d been caught in a bluff. Once they got to his room he even was so kind as to help him on his bed and put his wheelchair away. Because of this Hal said, “I have a few ideas of things we could do.”_

_He brightened for a moment before he concealed it._

_“Such as?” He asked, trying to sound disinterested._

_“It’s a surprise,” Hal grinned. “Now get out, Uncrippled Chess Champ.” Damien huffed but he didn’t seem displeased with that nickname.)_

Bruce came in with the necessary supplies to change the dressings on his wounds. Hal wasn’t sure how to be around him now, he knew how he felt about him and he knew he wanted to be around him. He knew what he wanted to do but that didn’t make it any easier to actually do it. It was all quite complex and Hal didn’t really appreciate it, he liked easy things, he appreciated simplicity. This whole situation shit on the word simple and all of it’s synonyms.

Hal was thinking all that and stared off into the distance as Bruce plopped—unfairly elegant—next to him on the bed and Hal was pulled from his train— _wreck_ —of thoughts. Bruce gave him a look, all raised eyebrows and pursed lips. It would look almost scolding if not for the look of amusement in his eyes.

“What?” Hal felt inclined to ask.

The man just tilted his head and then looked away to begin rummaging through the plastic bin of supplies he had brought with him. “Well, I was merely wondering if you were going to share what is so clearly on your mind." Was what he replied. Hal opened his mouth to rebuff that with _how do you know that I have something on my mind_ when Bruce cast him a quick look and said, "And you so clearly have something on your mind because you are staring a hole through my wall, barely noticing that I came in. Also, I am ready to change your dressing and you haven’t noticed that—usually you are looking for any excuse to get undressed. That’s usually something you would have noticed.”

Hal sucks his teeth but can’t really deny what Bruce had said as he looked and saw all the needed supplies on the bed ready to be used and Bruce’s gloved hands. Hal began to lift his good arm and try to shimmy out of his shirt but then huffed and looked up. Bruce’s face was full of amusement but also annoyance at the same time.

“Are you just gonna keep staring? Help me.” Hal ordered.

Bruce simply raised his prim eyebrows at him. “Is that how you ask for help?”

“It is when I saved your life,” Hal reminded him. “I don’t need to say please.”

Bruce rolled his eyes as he sighed but moved to gently peel the rest of Hal’s shirt off him. When Hal sat back and Bruce had put his shirt off to the side Bruce immediately got to work, carefully he peeled the tape from Hal’s skin, the large piece of gauze came off easily after that. He then cleaned the surrounding area of the cut before warning him, “This might sting.” It did sting, but it was only for a moment. Bruce’s eyes flitted up and they made eye contact for a moment, like he was making sure Hal was okay. Hal raised his eyebrows. Bruce scoffed slightly and one corner of his mouth pulled up, likely against his will.

And the entire time he worked Hal watched him, he stared at him and he didn’t even try to act like he wasn’t. He watched his eyes laser-focus on his work, his brow move and twitch in concentration on a menial task because he puts his all into everything, even things like this. Hal watched his hands move swiftly and easily, familiar with patching someone up.

When the wound was cleaned Bruce stared at it for a few beats. Then he nodded to himself. “It’s not infected, that’s good. There’s only five stitches. It’s not that likely to scar. If it does, it will be be minimal.” He said.

“That’s good,” Hal replied. Not really caring what they were talking about at the moment, just that they were talking. “Scar or no scar.” Bruce looked up at him and made a face and then continued with his work of re-dressing the wound. Hal thought of what to say, searched his mind and all that came to him at that moment wasn’t anything to do with what he really wanted to say but he still went with it. “Damien forced me to play chess with him.”

Bruce hummed to let him know he was listening. “He won most of the games, that kid really is a beast at chess. For every game he won he’s making me think of something to do with him.” Hal continued. That got Bruce’s attention. He looked up as he was in the middle of ripping a piece of tape from the roll to put on the bandage. His face was pinched slightly and as Hal watched him apply the tape to the edge of the bandage and then carefully smooth it unto his chest he thought he knew why.

“What were you thinking of doing?” Bruce finally asked. He ripped another piece off and applied it to the bottom.

Hal watched his face the entire time as he considered his answer. He had already had a few ideas. “Well, he won many times so I have to come up with lots of things. He said to make them entertaining. I have a few ideas,” Hal admitted. “Laser-tag.” He said theatrically.

Bruce gave him a look. “Laser-tag?”

“Hell yeah, man. Laser-tag is where it’s at. It’s all the rage. It’s totally normal but also totally his thing. Hunting people in the dark, under neon fluorescent lighting. With guns that don’t hurt anyone.” He couldn’t contain his glee at the prospect. Bruce stopped again and fully looked at him. “It’s also for me, I’m excited too. I happen to like laser-tag, okay? Whatever. But, I think of it like this. He made it abundantly clear that it needed to be fun so if I make the first one totally amazing he’s gonna wanna keep coming even if one is kinda shitty.”

Bruce is silent for long enough that it’s apparent he’s not going to speak. That he didn’t have anything to say and… and he had this look on his face. It’s—Hal didn’t know what it was because he’d never seen it before. He’s not smiling but he looks like he is, his eyes are shining and there’s that same light there. Except it’s all pointed at Hal and it’s all soft, softer than he is when he’s laughing and Hal didn’t know how to take that so he just decided to keep on.

“And some are definitely gonna be shitty because the little brat made me play like seventy games and then won fifty-three of them.” He pouted. Bruce still had that look on his face and Hal frowned. “Is laser-tag not okay?” He asked.

Bruce looked stunned and then he laughed, like he was genuinely shocked by the question.

“Is laser-tag okay?” he repeated. “Yeah, Hal it’s okay. That’s…that’s not what—” he stopped himself. He stared down at the tape still in his hands and it seemed like he was done speaking. That just wouldn’t do. Hal wouldn’t have him shutting down now. He knew it had to come from him, he had to be the one to initiate anything for Bruce to truly trust it.

“Okay,” Hal said. Accepted. Bruce looked up at him quickly. “If it’s not that and it’s not any of the other millions of excuses either of us could come up with… can we both please stop ignoring the look that was just on your face? I know the look on your face well enough Bruce because I know it’s the same one I get on mine when I look at you.”

Bruce looked like he had been pushed from a very high building and was surprised by the betrayal.

“Are you—are you—I—what are you…” Bruce seemed to be having a real hard time processing what had just occurred.

Hal smiled fondly at Bruce. “You really wouldn’t believe it if I made a sign and hit you with it, would you?” Hal asked. He shook his head. “We’re gonna work on that. Anyway, what I said Bruce was that I am tired of pretending I don’t feel what I feel for you, I know you are too. I also said I was in love with you.”

Bruce’s eyes widened and he went pale and his breath quickened. “What?” He said.

Hal sighed. “Are you still not getting it or can you just not hear me? Should I raise my voice?” He inquired in a slightly louder tone.

“Say it again,” Was Bruce’s order.

Hal tilted his head trying to think of what he said. He smiled when he figured it out. “I’m in love with you,” He repeated. Hal watch raptly as a shudder ripped through Bruce and he closed his eyes.

“Again.”

Gripping the back of Bruce’s neck Hal pulled him slightly closer. “Bruce, I love you. I will say it as much as you need to hear it until you believe it. And more because it’s true,” He whispered as he looked Bruce in the eyes.

“I already believe you,” Bruce told him quietly. “I just like hearing you say it.”

Hal grinned. “I did promise you I’d tell you as many times as you wanted to hear it,” he murmured. Bruce seemed relieved. “You really believe me?” Hal questioned.

Bruce looked away with a smirk on his face. “Well, I am a detective and you aren’t that great at hiding certain feelings.” Bruce said, hand coming up to grip the wrist of the hand Hal used to grip the back of Bruce’s neck. It was only one touch but it was also the first time Bruce had touched him like this, deliberately, with all their shared feelings aired. More or less, they were still kinda on that last part. “Some emotions were easier to draw out in you than others. You are a lot more honest when you’re angry.”

Hal made a face, but he couldn’t keep it up when Bruce started drawing inconsequential marks into the skin of his wrist. He tried to repress a shiver but Bruce saw it anyway and he smiled.

“Or the face you’re making now,” he continued. His voice got quieter and lower. “It clued me in, let me know I wasn’t alone. In wanting you.”

“What face?” Hal had to ask.

Bruce’s eyes ran over his face for a moment before he said, “It’s the same face you made that day in the monitor room. Before it was mixed with shock, now it’s mixed with something like awe.” He tilted his head. “It really is a pretty expression. 

Hal felt himself flush hotly but he didn’t look away. “Just pretty?” He teased.

Bruce continued to look at him like Hal was shocking. “I said the expression on your face was pretty. Anything on you is pretty, Hal. It’s because you have to be so fucking beautiful. You’re so beautiful sometimes I can’t take it,” Bruce said, like he was in pain.

Hal said nothing for a minute. He didn’t know what to say, no one had ever said anything like that to him. Not in a way that mattered. He’d been called attractive and handsome and hot but this didn’t seem like any of those things. This seemed different. He knew this was different because in this situation he felt all those same things and more about Bruce. 

“If you keep talking like that I might get the wrong idea,” Hal replied. The way he said it had just enough lilt and sarcasm for a joke but also just enough bite for a challenge. As he said it he slid his hand from Bruce’s neck into his hair. Bruce’s eyes darkened and he looked down at Hal’s lips a second before he did what they both wanted and pressed their lips together. A small sound escaped Hal at that first soft press and that sound seemed to diminish some of Bruce’s ironclad control, or even more of it, to be accurate. He made a lower noise of his own throat and pulled Hal closer.

Bruce’s warm breath fanned against his face as he brushed his nose along Hal’s cheek. “Perhaps, I want you to get the wrong idea.” Bruce placed a soft kiss on Hal’s jaw before moving lower, mouthing along his neck until he reached his shoulder. He bit the flesh there softly and Hal let out a rush of breath. Bruce didn’t lean back to look him in the eye but Hal could feel the slight smile that graced his lips. “Maybe I want both of us to have the wrong idea.”

“And what idea would that be?” Hal had the mind to ask. He only had the mind to ask it after several beats of silence to collect himself.

A slightly harsher bite this time, Hal let out a slight strangled sound. “Hmm.” Bruce only slid the hand that was cradling his face to his hair. He gripped it tight and pulled his neck back at an angle. Hal moaned outright at that and Bruce made a deeply pleased sound. “That we take off the rest of these clothes and get to the parts we’re really concerned with.”

Hal nearly swallowed his tongue but refrained. He was so hard it ached and he had been since the moment they started kissing, the prospect of anything else—anything _more_ thrilled and excited him but he had to be true to himself. “You just want to fuck me,” he commented. Bruce had this very brief look of startled surprise before he saw the look on Hal’s face and then it faded and was replaced with fuax nonchalance.

“True.” Bruce shrugged. He glanced at Hal’s lips for a moment. “But I don’t think it would be a hardship if it were the other way around, either. I think I would actually quite like it if it were you.”

Hal was so shocked and so aroused he didn’t know which way was up and which was down. He wanted to say something, he knew that but he couldn’t think of words, his thoughts were flying at a million miles per hour and they were all half-formed at best. All being interrupted with ‘ _Bruce thinks he’d like me fucking him_ ’. Since that was the thought that was interrupting all other thoughts he decided to go with that one.

“You—I—” Hal had to close his eyes and his mouth for a brief moment. When he opened them again Bruce was looking at him with dark, lidded eyes and wet lips. Hal groaned. “You’ve thought about me fucking you?”

Bruce nodded. “Yes,” he breathed. “Thought, dreamt, day-dreamed.”

Hal gripped both of Bruce’s hips and dragged him closer. “Fuck.”

“Fuck, indeed.” Bruce smirked

Hal shot a glare at him but it fell short as he was already smiling. “I was just kidding. I would totally like you to fuck me,” he said.

It was Bruce’s turn to groan, he leaned his forehead against Hal’s. “You can’t say things like that so suddenly,” he growled hoarsely. He was still gripping Hal’s hair, though the hold was looser. He seemed to be relaxed and tense all at once, relaxed in a way Hal’s never seen him with his guard being down but also tense with having to control himself so much. Hal grinned.

“What do you mean?” He innocently inquired. Bruce kept his eyes closed and took deep, calming breaths. “That I want you to fuck me until I can’t walk, that I want to feel it for days.”

“Hal.” Bruce bit out. It was said so quietly he had a hard time hearing it, Hal thought that had something to do with the fact that it was said between clenched teeth. The hand gripping his hair became tight again, his head bent at an angle again. “How I want to fuck you until you’re begging me to stop. How I want you to fuck my throat—” Bruce didn’t cut him off with words, he simply opened his eyes. They were bright, his control had been a string that was amiable and stretchy and Hal had simply cut it with scissors.

Bruce was still and silent for a moment, breathing raggedly. It was only when Hal started to lean forward that he narrowed his eyes, tightened his grip a fraction, and tilted Hal’s head further back. The moan that escaped Hal’s throat was wanton and needy and his cheeks flamed red but they’d already been red. He couldn’t really care when the look of pure, unfiltered desire Bruce gave him was focused on him and him alone. It was when that sound escaped him that Bruce rushed forward to have his mouth again.

Hal groaned and placed his hands on Bruce’s shirt questioningly. When he felt one of Bruce’s hand leave his hip to be placed over one of his hands he removed Bruce’s shirt urgently, the endless patience he seemed to have had only moments before seemed to have evaporated.

Bruce started in on his pants and Hal made this pathetic little noise and began to undo Bruce's pants as well. If not for Bruce Hal doesn't think much progress would have been made, but that wasn't out of the ordinary. Hal was quite used to that.

When they were both in their boxers and panting Bruce paused in his ministrations and just stared at him and if not for how stunning he looked Hal would have throttled him. Bruce was heavy lidded and dark eyed, his pupils seemed to encompass majority of his iris. His breathing was more labored and his tongue seemed to keep darting out to wet his already wet lips.

Hal couldn't look away. He had thought Bruce was beautiful before, but that was nothing on this.

Bruce articulated his exact thoughts. "You're so fucking beautiful."

Hal laughed, but it was more a huff of breath than anything. "I was just thinking that about you." His thumb rubbed over Bruce's navel but over his boxers, teasingly.

Bruce took hold of Hal's hips and slotted their hips together, the sudden change and friction caused Hal buck his hips. It was when Bruce's hands on his hips tightened and he started grinding their cocks together that Hal made a sound resembling a keen.

"I've thought about this so much," Bruce said, one hand left slid up Hal's torso to his chest. "There's so many things I want to do with you. _To_ you."

Hal whined at that.

Bruce's thumb started rubbing teasing circles around his nipple but never actually applying any real pressure. When Bruce finally took pity on him and applied proper pressure and then a pinch Hal moaned.

"But...I don't think I'd be able to last that long with you sounding the way you sound and looking the way you look." Bruce placed his thumb on Hal's bottom lip and made a contemplative sound. "Its your fault for being so pretty. I'll take you apart slow and do everything from all my fantasies some other time."

Hal groaned and opened his mouth just enough to suck Bruce's finger in. Bruce made a sound like he'd been gut-punched.

"That's giving me ideas," he said. " _Vivid_ ideas. Your mouth is a reoccurring feature in my fantasies."

Hal smirked around the finger and swirled his tongue as he bobbed his head. He kept eye contact and Bruce closed his own eyes and let out another sound, though this one sounded like a whimper. It set Hal's blood ablaze in a different way than the others had. He wanted to hear Bruce make more of those sounds because of him, because he'd lost enough of his control.

He liked all of the sounds he'd heard from Bruce, but insofar that was his favorite. That whimper.

"I think that can be arranged," Hal commented, when he pulled off. "Since your cock in my mouth is one of my vivid and reoccurring fantasies."

Bruce's eyes widened and his mouth parted. " _Hal_." And then he was on Hal again, all fervor and urgency and hot-blooded desire. All of that and more; all of which Hal reciprocated.

When Bruce stripped Hal of his underwear he did it with such force that the fabric made a ripping noise but Hal paid it no mind. Hal leaned back to get at Bruce but Bruce placed a hand on his chest and seemed to be taking his fill, just looking at Hal. He was looking at Hal's leaking cock, which gave a twitch under his attention and Bruce licked his lips. He roved his eyes back up over Hal's body slowly.

"Hurry up," Hal demanded. Bruce just smirked at him.

Bruce reached over and pulled a bottle of lube and a condom from the bottom drawer of the bedside table. Hal bit his bottom lip in anticipation as Bruce leaned back in and over him. Hal spread his legs a little wider and Bruce's eyes immediately fall to them. He set a hand on one of Hal's thighs and pulls him closer while also spreading his legs wider. Hal intakes a quick breath at the display of strength and the way he was manhandled so easily. 

"What now?" He asked, voice husky.

Hal makes a wrecked noise. "Well, you said that you wouldn't mind me fucking you," he started. Bruce's eyes close and he lets out a huff breath. "And I'd love to see you ride me but I really want you to fuck me right now."

Bruce's eyes fly open.

"Hal." It's said as a groan.

Hal still hadn't tired of hearing his name coming from Bruce's mouth in that tone of voice, looking that that. All debauched.

"Is that a yes?"

Bruce didn't reply he just leaned forward and nipped Hal's neck while his hand found his cock, Hal groaned and his back arched slightly. Bruce gave him a few slow strokes that had him whining and then his hand started moving further down.

Hal shuddered.

Bruce's stroked over his hole, giving the slightest pressure before then he pulled away.

"Hey!" Hal protested. Before he could further his protestations Bruce was back with cold, slick fingers circling his hole. That didn't stop him though. He sighed and said, "You could have warmed it."

He felt Bruce's quiet laugh against his chest.

Bruce slowly pressed his first finger in, to the first knuckle and watched Hal's face as he took it. It was a little stretch that he got used to quickly, Bruce saw that and kept going. He was going slowly, fucking him with one finger for a while. Hal appreciated the care but wanted to speed it up.

When he got to the second finger and started scissoring them open only to have Hal's body close them that Bruce's breathing hitched. It was as if gravity pulled him down between Hal's thighs, his eyes were locked on were his fingers entered Hal's body. It was when he was down there that he nailed Hal's prostate dead on for the first time, before that it had been brushed or pressed lightly but not like that. Hal nearly screamed his moan was so loud.

Bruce looked up at him, seemingly a tad smug but also on the edge of his control.

"There, huh?"

Hal could only nod.

Bruce smirked and started with the third finger. He was ruthless. Every entry and every exit he brushed Hal's prostate, he could have cum from that alone. Then the fucker eyed his leaking cock with interest and leaned forward to suck the head.

Hal mewled weakly.

"Br—Bruce!" He tried pushing his head off. Bruce slowed his fingers down. "I'm going to cum if you don't stop."

Bruce looked up at him with narrowed eyes and growled, he fucking growled. The vibrations went to the head of his cock and Hal whimpered, at that and the way Bruce was looking at him. Hal was shaking and gripping the sheets desperately.

"This isn't fair," he protested. "Just wait until I fuck you."

Bruce pulled off from his cock with one last lick. "You don't get to cum until I'm fucking you," he said, ignoring Hal comment. His eyes were fiery and narrowed and he seemed dead serious which was probably why Hal's body had the reaction it did.

"Get to that then."

Bruce rolled his eyes. "You're very mouthy," he stated.

"You like it," Hal replied boldly. He smirked.

Bruce just smirked back and grabbed the condom and slid it on. He slicked himself up with lube and wrapped his hands around Hal's thighs to pull him closer, another little thrill went through Hal at that. He lined himself up but paused.

"Are you sure?"

"Are you fucking serious? Yes! I'm sure, now fuck me."

Bruce gripped Hal's hips and he slid inside with little to no resistance. A little groan escaped Bruce's lips and Hal moaned. He let Hal adjust for a minute before Hal shifted his hips back and Bruce moaned quietly and Hal's gut clenched with the noise.

"You're so tight," Bruce groaned. "I felt you around my fingers, but I didn't think... fuck—Hal."

Hal thought he could have cum then. Bruce talking so much and sounding like that. That was nearly enough, it probably could be, they should test it.

He pulled out only to thrust back in with such force that Hal moaned loudly at the surprise of it. Hal was holding back whimpers and sobs because every time Bruce thrusted in he nailed Hal's prostate. It felt so good Hal felt like he could've died from it. He bit his lip to stifle the sounds he was making.

"You're always so loud." Bruce nailed his prostate extra hard that time and Hal couldn't quiet the sound that escaped him. "You were loud before, why are you being quiet now?"

Hal opened his eyes, realizing he closed them, when they made eye contact the hold on his hips tightened. Bruce was looking down at him and looking at him nearly did him in again. Bruce was abusing his prostate with no mercy.

Hal whimpered.

"There you go," he encouraged. He slowed down his thrusts, but that didn't mean anything. If anything that made them pack more power. He was able to better pull Hal back on his cock that way. Hal moaned. "That's what I want to hear."

Bruce lowered his head to Hal's neck and began leaving marks. Hal let out a string of _ah ah ah's_ and groans and Bruce let out _Hal's_ and groans of his own that made Hal burn.

"The way you sound Hal, fuck..." Bruce muttered into his shoulder. "Baby, you have no idea."

The sound Hal let out then was by far the loudest, his cock leaked precum and he shuddered. Bruce leaned back to look at him.

"You like that?" He asked. "Baby."

Hal covered his face with his arms to hide and to help better stifle the noise that came out of him. That didn't stop his shiver.

Bruce pried his arms away, never stopping his thrusts and said, "Baby, don't hide from me. I like hearing your moans and seeing your flushed face."

Hal gripped Bruce's hair tightly and pulled. Bruce groaned loudly and shook, his hip bucked. "Stop teasing," Hal told him.

"Who says I'm teasing?" Bruce leaned forward and bit lightly on Hal's shoulder and Hal nearly shook apart. He didn't realize how close he was but that made him. He moaned quietly and shoved his hips back against Bruce. "I wouldn't do that to you, _baby_." He put emphasis on the word with more than just his inflection, as he said the word he hit that sweet bundle of nerves again, almost violently with the amount of force that was behind it. 

" _Fuck_ ," Hal breathed, his voice hoarse. "I'm close."

Bruce's hips worked faster. "Me too."

When Bruce stilled and Hal felt Bruce's hands tightening on his hips to the point where he knew there were going to be bruises he bit on Hal's shoulder and that pushed Hal over the edge. Hal threw his head back and came silently. He shuddered through his orgasm, his semen slicking were they were pressed together. Bruce went slightly laxer but pulled out. Hal let out a sigh and Bruce crashed next to him, he wrapped Hal into his arms and sighed himself eyes working closed and nose brushing against his shoulder. Hal smiled and started chuckling.

Bruce grunted in question. “You like to cuddle, that’s so cute.” Bruce just tightened his arms. “We should clean ourselves.” He protested weakly, but he was already relaxing.

The man just grunted again and got into a more comfortable position. “Later, sleep now.” Was his very articulated response.

Hal would have laughed but he just sighed and snuggled back into the muscular arms wrapped around him, feeling safe and content. Something he hadn’t felt in a while. At least, not both at once. He reveled in the feeling this gave him, this feeling of love and safety, this feeling of living. The way he felt about Bruce was like nothing he'd ever felt before and even in the smaller moments he reveled in the attention Bruce gave him, though he'd never say it out loud. So, this... finally being able to be with him, everything out in the open meant everything. He had a feeling Bruce felt the same way. 

He fell asleep with a lazy smile on his face thinking about that. 

 

 

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> okay so i tried idk its so confusing to me. smut is hard tbh i literally got to a certain point and blanked and had to write little by little and then i eventually cringed and just powered through. however this is terrible i feel but idk i truly don't. this is my first time writing a scene between two people. but lmk what you think. this took wayyyyy too long for me to get out and i'm really sorry for that but i'm chronically ill so there's that as well as just like family stuff and mental stuff that's been going on so as well as having trouble writing that one scene that's basically this whole chapter there's that stuff as well. but i'm still really sorry. 
> 
> THANK YOU FOR READING!!!!!
> 
> any mistakes are mine and will probably be edited/fixed soon as i usually read and re-read after i publish these, if the mistakes make it past my first editing.


	5. the fifth and final revelation: hal

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> hal realizes that he deserves to be happy and that his happiness is a person with a herd of children and a slew of personality defects

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> i'm so sorry that this is the conclusion to the series but alas... i hope you enjoy it. kudos and comments are appreciated <3

The last week had been, for lack of better words, fucking insane. Hal had been staying with Bruce for nearly a week now and in all that time they were basically in a relationship, which Hal loved every bit of but equally thought was so incredibly strange. Not because it was Bruce, but because being with Bruce also meant adopting all of his family—which admittedly, he’d already started to do. Bruce muttered to him a few times that he thought all his children liked Hal more than him, Hal comforted him that at least he still had Alfred.

 

There had been a snort from behind them when they turned they were met with the not-so-innocent looking face of Alfred, who seemed to be making some kind of desert. “You too?” Bruce had questioned him, sounding betrayed.

 

Jason had started manically laughing by that point, Alfred merely raised an eyebrow and turned to get back to work as he replied, “I don’t know what you mean, sir.” He hadn’t turned quickly enough for Hal not to catch a glimpse of the upturn of his mouth though.

 

It made Hal grin. Bruce took one look at Hal and rolled his eyes.

 

“You have the ones I haven’t spent enough time with to have won over yet..” Hal offered.

 

Jason snorted. “They prefer you too,” he replied. Bruce glowered at him. “ _Because_ they’ve spent so much time with him.”

 

Hal busted out laughing even before Bruce picked up a bagel and chucked it at Jason, his squawk of surprise and anger only made it worse. Alfred’s chiding tone went in one ear and out the other. He looked up when he'd calmed himself and was surprised by the look on Bruce's face, his face was soft with that happiness he showed more and more often but his eyes were intense. As if he was drinking in everything he was seeing, like he was collecting these good memories. Hal had seen the look on his face several times before, collecting memories to a private album only he could access. 

 

Hal didn't think that was such a bad idea as he smiled back at Bruce. It was these moments, he thought, that he’d like to have forever. The simple ones.

 

* * *

 

The simple moments he had thought of hadn’t required wrangling all of Bruce’s children to one of their bi-weekly family dinners nor did it involve being the adult in said situation. He was tasked with making sure nothing was broken, no bones especially, that no fights—verbal or physical—broke out, and that everything went smoothly.

 

That was going to be fucking hard. He didn’t like adulting. Not in everyday life, that was for, like, work and stuff.

 

Duke, Jason, and Dick were in a small circle by themselves. They were talking quite loudly but all of it sounded like they were Sims characters so Hal couldn’t understand a word of it, he thought either he was on some serious painkillers—which he’s stopped taking several days ago—or they were talking in gibberish. When Tim walked over and began talking in the same made up language Hal almost lost it.

 

He simply closed his eyes, shook his head and moved on with his adulting duties as things were clearly fine.

 

Luke, Damien, Titus, and Cass were all in the kitchen. Cass was assisting Alfred in a very backhanded way, darting in and out when he couldn’t see and setting things on the counter right before he needed them. Alfred obviously knew something was up, though he didn’t seem angry, he even had a small smile on his face. Though, Hal suspected that if he caught her it would be different. He wondered if this was a game they played.

 

Luke was talking to Damien was Titus and the pregnant cat he’d seen a few days ago that he was sure was about to pop, he kept shooting Hal looks as he was talking about it, like he was sending him silent hints. Hal also knew that as soon as that cat popped those suckers out they’d be infesting the manor whether Bruce okay’d it or not. When Hal walked over and ruffled Damien’s hair he stopped mid-sentence and seemed to blush to his roots but he didn’t push Hal away immediately. Only when he lingered.

 

“Awe, Cutest Assassin, you’re so _cute_ ,” Hal said.

 

Damien spun in his chair so fast it almost toppled. “Don’t call me that, cretin! I’m not cute.” He replied vehemently.

 

“Adorable?” Damien made a face of disgust at the word. Luke let out sounds of muffled laughter. He was turned away and had his face buried in the crook of his elbow. “Traitor,” he whisper-hissed.

 

“You’re right, Damien. You’re _not_ cute, you’re downright devious,” Luke told him solemnly. It was Hal’s turn to laugh. He and Luke exchanged a look and they grinned at each other.

 

Damien narrowed his eyes at the two of them being so buddy-buddy and rolled his eyes as they seemed to start their own private conversation without him. Hal kept all this in his peripheral vision and tried not to run over to ruffle his hair or hug him.  

 

The topic of conversation then huffed. “Whatever, you can say whatever you want. You still suck at chess.” Damien said while nodding to himself.

 

Hal stared at him for a moment. Damien had sounded like a normal child then, no robot speak. Wow, progress. He opened his mouth, closed it, then just said, “You’re so right, Damien.” The kid seemed so pleased with himself Hal didn’t even feel like saying the few jokes that had come to him in response.

 

The little shit ruined it when he replied with, “I know.”

 

Hal just looked at Luke whose shoulders were moving but no noise was coming out of him. Hal turned and walked away in search of "children" he should be supervising. 

 

He found Kate and Stef sitting on the couch watching The Office and reciting the entire show line for line. Hal joined them and together they chanted the lines to The Office like some kind of cult. Bruce had come looking for him at one point but when he saw them he did an about-face at once without a word. Hal lost himself to The Office until their cult grew in number, Jason and Dick came first to wait out the elaborate dinner Alfred (and Cass) were cooking, when they too began chanting it was a surreal experience. Duke came next, grinned, shouted “fuck yeah” and climbed over Hal to sit next to Stef and Kate. Tim and Luke came in at the same time, Luke had wide eyes but sat down and Tim was muttered something under his breath but ended up coming to chant just as they were at, “Dwight, you ignorant slut.”

 

Bruce came in to see all eyes glued to the screen as the chanting had grown to a crescendo. He watched them as he pinched his nose and then joined in for a single line before he stood in front of the television. Did that stop Kate and Stef’s army? No, they knew all the lines. They continued chanting.

 

“Oh, _what the fuck?_ ” Bruce said. “I know all the words too, _none of you are special._ Now, if you continue sitting there looking like you’re in some kind of fucking cult none of you get leftovers.”

 

Everyone got up off the couch at once.

 

Hal stayed behind with Bruce for a moment. He pulled Bruce’s head toward his ear and whispered, “The fact that you know all the lines to The Office is probably the hottest thing about you now.”

 

Bruce started laughing hysterically, when he settled he got a startled look and began pulling Hal toward the dining room.

 

“If we don’t go get a plate now, those heathens won’t leave even a scrap for us.” He said as he pulled.

 

When they got to the dining room they were met with two empty three empty seats, two for them and one for Alfred. Hal had the realization that he’d never seen Alfred eat before, that he must’ve only ever sat at the table on these occasions. Alfred waited for them all to be seated and begin eating to sit himself before he casted a look on the table, “Damien and Cass helped set the table.” He told them.

 

They all looked at Damien, he shrank in his chair.

 

“We were chanting The Office,” Jason said.

 

Everyone was now looking at Jason, he just shrugged.

 

“Since they helped me do that all of you will help me clean up.”

 

“You never let anyone help!” Dick cried.

 

“I’m feeling gracious today.”

 

“That’s not what that mean,” Luke murmured.

 

Hal exchanged a look with Bruce and knew they were thinking much of the same thing. That they wouldn’t mind more of these moments.

 

_(However, after dinner Jason and Dick ruined it by regaling Duke with stories of the good ole days, particularly the story of when Dick swung from the chandelier, within earshot of Damien. Hal saw it happen, the kids eyes lit up and he darted around the corner. Hal groaned but didn’t go after him, he had his ring if anything happened, he also caught the part of the story where they had the chandeliers bolted to the ceiling because of him._

_“Dickie, you were a real go-getter back then, weren’t you?” Jason asked._

_“Are you drunk?”_

_Jason held his thumb and forefinger a breadth width apart. “Only a little,” he admitted._

_Duke shook his head, but he seemed fond. Jason had this little sheepish grin on his face at having been caught._

_Tim walked over to Hal then. “I’m happy for you guys,” he said. Hal looked at him in mild surprise but there was no hiding the meaning. Tim saw his look and smiled. “_ World’s Greatest Detective _remember?”_

_Hal laughed._

_“You’re good for him, he’s happy so I’m happy.” Tim said plainly._

_“That was the plainest someone has given their approval. Jason said his piece in like two paragraphs.” Hal shook his head with a small smile._

_Tim looked from him to Jason. “That’s surprising. Given the way he is, all action, no talk.”_

_Jason looked up then, frowned, pursed his lips, tilted his head. “My shit talk radar is going off. You talking shit, bro?” He asked. Tim clutched his stomach and doubled over with the force of his laughter._

_“You’re so stupid!” He exclaimed._

_Jay looked to Dick like he was getting either confirmation or support. “You see, Dickie? That was total shit talking.”_

_Dick nodded. “It kinda was.” He confirmed. Dick's face said that no matter what Jason said he was going to agree, even if it was utterly ridiculous which was likely._

_Tim hadn't stopped laughing.That didn't sit well with Jason as he handed Dick an imaginary object. “Hold my beer, bro.”_

_“I got your beer man.”_

_“Oh, no.” Duke said._

_Jason approached Tim and got him into classic a noogie hold and started in on him relentlessly. He would have kept going had there not been a crash above them._

_“Oh,_ no _.” Duke said again._

_“You see what you did Jason,” Tim exclaimed peevishly as he pushed Jason away from him._

_“How is this my fault?” He responded, just as peeved. “If anything it’s Dick’s fault!”_

_“How?”_

_Duke nodded. “You did start talking about it, to be honest.” He added._

_“No one can be trusted,” Dick muttered sourly._

_Hal watched as Damien swung from one chandelier for a minute building momentum and then his heart almost stopped when he leapt to the other one, he built a construct to catch him in case he fell. He didn’t. He also had a grin on his face so wide it looked like it could have cracked._

_“Damien, dude! What are you doing?” Jason shouted._

_“Proving I’m the best!” He screamed back. He hung from one chandelier for several moments, just swinging as Hal nearly died from an arrhythmia._

_“Of course.” Tim murmured grinning._

_“Anything that idiot can do so can I.” Damien shouted._

_“Come down!” Kate bellowed coming out, she was smiling too though._

_Everyone was snapping pictures, finding his antics to be more amusing than annoying as usual. Hal the only adult around thought it would have been amusing if there wasn't a risk of death or permanent injury. He thought Dick was in the background making a tiktok but he couldn't be completely sure._

_“How?” He questioned._

_“Jump.” Hal commanded._

_Damien did._

_Bruce was rightfully pissed but he was more angry about the pregnant cat that Damien smuggled into the manor a few days later.)_

 

* * *

 

Hal was seated on a gray loveseat, across from a very beautiful woman he has come to trust. Both at work and privately. She has a notepad in front of her but she just looks like she’s doodling. He is comfortable here, it’s somewhere he feels safe. He’s been here once this week already and their sessions are getting shorter but more frequent because his fears are becoming less about such larger than life things and more about everyday things. Things he thinks about so much that they consume him, but she is a balm to those fears.

 

“So, you and Bruce, how are you guys doing?” She asked him.

 

Hal paused. They were doing well, very well. He said as much. He always tried to consider his answers before he spoke because he could be honest here. He didn’t have to hide anything at all. She knew about both his lives.

 

“Good, we’re good. I just worry about screwing it up.” He told her.

 

Dinah made eye contact with him, “Why?” she asked him.

 

“Because… I never thought this was possible for me. I never really thought I could have this and it scares me. What I have with him because it’s new but so real and because… the thought of losing that scares me so much.”

 

Dinah smiled at him. “It should, that’s how you know it’s real. Real love isn’t being able to life without someone it’s not wanting to.” She said, holding eye contact. “This was always possible for you and I think you know that I think the fear was that you thought that maybe you didn’t deserve something like this.”

 

Hal let out a breath and nodded. She smiled gently at him.

 

“Are you happy, Hal?” She asked. She'd asked him this before and he'd never been able to give her a straight answer, he always step-sided or lied, and  _it's complicated_   was his go it when she wouldn't let him. Dinah watched him like a hawk—or a canary—after every time. 

 

Hal thought about it deeply. Before when he would’ve said yes without a second thought it wasn't true—or fully true, now though, things were different. He thought of all those little moments at the manor were nothing terrible was happening and no one needed saving and there was laughter and smiles and he smiled himself.

 

“Yes, I am.” He stated. “You helped with that.”

 

She smiled at him and he felt proud that this happiness that he felt was his and his alone. That he'd somehow attained this for himself, that this was real and true and everything he could have ever dreamed, while simultaneously superseding his wildest dreams.

 

* * *

 

After he left Dinah’s he headed to Ollie’s place, with the promise to warn Ollie not to get to drunk otherwise it would be a reckoning for him. They planned to play games on his PS4 and Wii after watching the basketball game. Hal was excited to spend time with them all since he hadn’t seen them much since he’d been holed up in the manor. He’d missed them all very much even though he’d seen them all earlier in the week.

 

When he got there they were all waiting for him, Ollie was slumped on the couch, beer in one hand controller in the other. Kyle was cursing furiously about how Mortal Kombat must be cheating and how Ollie played this game all this time so clearly he had the upper hand while Oliver laughed at him. Barry zoomed over to Hal and fussed over him per usual while John merely gave him a once over from the couch where he browsed through a magazine, reading glasses low on his nose.

 

Hal thought the sight before him was oddly funny.

 

His amusement must have shown on his face as Barry chuffed the side of his head and said, “Get a move on Hal, no excuse now. You’re not even that hurt anymore, I’ll beat your ass in Mortal Kombat next.”

 

“You couldn’t even if you _tried_.” Hal scoffed.

 

“Super speed remember? I can do all the combos, what can you do? Whine about how much you’re losing like Kyle here?” Barry teased.

 

Kyle’s head turned so fast  popping noises came from his neck. He whipped the controller at Barry’s head (Oliver cried out _“my controller!”_ before he realized he was still winning and then he shouted in triumph) but he must of forgotten that Barry was the fastest man alive because Bar caught it with ease and simply raised and eyebrow at Kyle. Kyle huffed in reply and sank back in the couch to sulk as Barry took over and beat Oliver with his combos.

 

“Fuck!” Oliver shouted. “How? You cheater!”

 

John looked up when it got loud but went back to his magazine with a shake of his head. Barry and Oliver bickered and Ollie looked like he was about to go get his bow—while Kyle still sulked—when Hal stepped in.

 

“Listen, why don’t you settle the matter over another game?” He tried.

 

They considered this, looking at him for a moment like they thought it was a trick of some sort before they looked at each other and then it was settled. Bar sat on the couch and they chose their characters and went to town, shouting when one got the upper hand and eventually Barry won again because he was a filthy cheater and used his super powers which was totally wrong. Oliver cursed him and went to go get another beer.

 

Kyle looked at Hal and sighed, Hal shared the sentiment. “How is living with the bats?” He asked.

 

Hal shrugged. “It’s okay. The brat is fun, I like getting underneath his skin. He’s cute.”

 

Oliver came back and frowned. “Are you talking about what the manor is like? Without me?” He sounded betrayed.

 

“Don’t be so dramatic.” Barry said.

 

Oliver made a face at him. “Did you guys get all that… sexual tension out yet?” He inquired with no hint of tact. It was asked with a hint of teasing.

 

Everyone in the room paused and everything went deathly still, John looked up from his magazine (it was Men's Health) for the third time that night, Kyle made a choked noise, Barry dropped his controller, and Hal blushed all the way to his hair follicles.

 

“What—I—how—” he started. He realized him stammering was making it worse. “Fuck you.” He groaned.

 

Ollie fell out laughing. “Oh—wait, _really?_ I am surprised, I didn’t think you had the balls to make a move,” he admitted.

 

“You’re awful.”

 

“Hal, really?” Kyle sounded shocked. “You and Bruce?”

 

Hal just nodded. He looked at John who had gone back to reading his magazine. “What about you mother, no questions? What’s your take on this?”

 

John grunted. “I have no questions and I would have rather not known,” he replied. Hal opened his mouth to make a comment but didn’t get the chance. “It feels as if I have learned some choice information about my son I would have not known. I wish to not know anything further about how you release your sexual tension.”

 

Hal was silent for a moment before he starting laughing. Barry and Ollie followed suit.

 

Kyle though had an uncomfortable look on his face.

 

“No, this _isn’t_ funny. I’m in agreement with him, it’s as if I’ve been told my parents have sex.” He informed them solemnly. “Like I knew it but getting conformation is something else and it’s far more disturbing.”

 

He couldn’t help himself—he started laughing again.

 

Hal gripped the back of Kyle’s neck and brought him closer and through his giggles said, “D-don’t ev-er c-c-change. _Ohmygosh_ , I’m going to pee myself.” Kyle just grinned back at him.

 

As he looked around at his friends wide grins on their faces, laughter in the air he thought this was another moment he would like to live in forever. Another moment for his own album. 

 

* * *

 

When he was done making his rounds he was thoroughly tired out. Ollie had that effect on a lot of people though, so it was nothing unusual. He flew back to the manor, where he sort of didn’t ever need to be at this point in his recovery since his ring had taken care of most of the damage. He still had the casts on but he could maneuver alright and he could fly, though it was more leisurely. As landed he was instantly hit with the scents of deserts and his stomach leapt and he followed the scent to the kitchen. He was assaulted with the shrill sound of his ringtone sounding through seemingly the whole manor in the quiet, he cursed as he grabbed a cookie and answered the FaceTime call.

 

It was Tom, he saw half of Carol’s face and before he could even say hello she was yelling at him to fix it. He didn’t so there was more yelling.

 

“Hello!” He said.

 

“Hal!” Carol said, snatching the phone from Tom who shouted at her. “You made rounds all around but couldn’t come see us?” Her eyes were narrowed and her brow arched so Hal knew it was a serious inquiry rather than teasing.

 

“If I was gonna spend time with my two besties after not seeing them in a while I was gonna spend the whole day with you guys,” he told her honestly.

 

She pursed her lips but seemed pleased by his response. Tom was calling in the back, saying things that he knew Carol was just being crazy. She clicked her tongue at him and finally Tom came into view too, she held the phone at an angle that he could see them both.

 

“Plus, if I’m gonna tell you guys all the gossip about the manor we’ll need a whole day.” He whispered conspiratorially. Their eyes lit up and they pounced on it and started asking questions at once. Hal would have entertained it and teased them but he really was tired. “Listen guys, Bruce's been keeping me locked up like Rapunzel and when I finally go out I did too much too fast, doing my rounds actually did tire me out a lot more than expected. I’ll call you guys tomorrow and we can set up something and I’ll tell you everything about the… Batcave.” He knew hinting at him and Bruce would only lead to him never getting off the phone and he wanted to that in person.

 

They gasped.

 

“Okay!” Tom exclaimed. “Get some shut eye, man.”

 

“Sleep well.”

 

They hung up and he ate his cookie while walking to Bruce’s room. Bruce had asked him if he wanted to start sleeping there recently so now they slept in the same bed. It would never stop amazing him how domestic it all was. He barely remembered the walk, only getting to the bed and face plopping on it.

 

Bruce came in about an hour later and woke Hal by brushing hair away from his face, Hal cracked his eyes opened and smiled. Bruce was looking down at him with this soft, cracked open look and when he saw Hal smile he smiled himself.

 

“Hey,” he mumbled.

 

“Hello,” Bruce replied. His hand was still brushing through Hal’s hair. “You couldn’t hang, I assume.”

 

Hal gasped. “How dare you. I can hang.” He poked Bruce in the forehead. He chuckled and shook his head. “Oh, I hung for hours but hanging tired me out.”

 

Bruce nodded. “It’s what being old gets you.”

 

“That’s it.” Hal pounced and pushed himself up while pulling Bruce down until he was on top. “Old jokes now? Really? That’s my thing, old man. Or did you forget that.”

 

Bruce grinned that stupid fucking blinding grin of his and laughed. “Puns? We’re doing dad jokes now?” He questioned.

 

“Being around your kid has brought out the best in me.” Hal shrugged. Bruce just looked up at him with that tender look in his eyes and that grin on his face for so long without saying anything that Hal couldn’t take it anymore so he kissed him. Bruce continued to smile into the kiss and Hal pulled back and just looked at him. “I didn’t take you for a romantic.”

 

“You’re surprised?” Bruce asked mockingly.

 

“Shut up,” Hal replied laughing. He got off of Bruce and just pulled him to himself, Bruce laughed at him until Bruce’s warm hands came to hold him as well. Hal’s had his head on Bruce’s chest and one of Bruce’s hands was on his hips and Hal had his hand on Bruce’s arm.

 

“Whose the romantic now?”

 

“Shut _up_.” He felt more than heard Bruce's quiet laugh. 

 

Bruce let go of his hip and Hal let out a quiet sound of displeasure and he felt Bruce's smile in his hair. "It's fine. I'll be right back, I want to go brush my teeth." 

 

"'Kay." 

 

When Bruce was gone Hal spread out but groaned when he heard a knock come from the door. He sat up, rubbed at his eyes and padded to the door. He was slightly surprised to see Damien standing there looking embarrassed with his head tilted down. 

 

"Damien?" Hal questioned. "Are you okay?" 

 

He nodded. "I usually don't dream," Damien told him. Hal had a feeling where this was going. "But when I do, they're not good ones." 

 

"I see." He opened the door wider and Damien looked up with shock evident in his features, Hal smiled at him. "You're tiny, the bed is big enough. If it's not we can always cuddle." 

 

Damien seemed revealed but in the same breath said, "You will not cuddle me, heathen." Hal just laughed and jumped at the bed and opened his arms. Damien eyed him a moment before he crawled on the bed and under the covers without ever touching Hal. Hal rolled his eyes and got under the covers as well. 

 

"By the end of the night we will be cuddling, you little rascal," he promised. 

 

"In your dreams." 

 

"Exactly." 

 

Damien snorted and burrowed into the sheets and blankets and he moved slightly closer to Hal with the movement, it caused Hal to grin. Damien seemed to fall asleep just like that despite his earlier distress and Hal dozed and when Bruce returned and whispered, "What is this?" 

 

Hal cracked an eye open to feel his arms around a small body and grinned. "Just me being an old man, doing old man things," he replied sleepily. He pulled Damien closer, tucked the boy's head under his chin. 

 

"He's never done this, I don't understand. They all love you more than me." Bruce pulled the covers back more harshly than he needed to and Damien smacked his lips in his sleep. 

 

"What can I say? Can you blame them?" Hal retorted. 

 

Bruce locked eyes with him for several seconds before shaking his head and sighing. "No, I can't," he admitted. 

 

He smiled and closed his eyes and thought about how this was his happiness. How Bruce was, how Damien was, how Jason and Dick and how every Bat was. How Alfred's surly looks were and how even just seeing them smile or laugh made this small thing inside him feel lighter somehow. They were his family, the best one he'd ever have. He'd found his happiness and his family and he knew he'd do anything to keep it. 

 

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> is anyone still here? i'm so sorry this is bad and that it took me so long to write. basically my computer deleted this from what i was writing it on and it discouraged me so yeah... i'm probably gonna change some things and edit it some more but this is it for now. any mistakes are mine but bc of my ocd just gimme some time to go back and edit the mistakes lol also sorry for how choppy this is. but lemme know what you think!!


End file.
